Juliet is Awakening
by Tristansdream
Summary: Starts set during Run Away Little Boy. One decision changes Tristan and Rory's lives, in more ways than one. *COMPLETED*
1. Prologue: Romeo Flakes

**Disclaimer: **I OWN NOTHING! This is purely for entertainment.

This is set during Run Away Little Boy. Tristan has just walked out of the rehearsal for the final act of Romeo and Juliet. This, and maybe the epilogue, will be the only chapter where we know Tristan's feelings. This is my first fan fic ever and certainly the only Trory story I've written. Please let me know how I'm doing. Hope you enjoy.

_**xoxoxoxo**_

_**"You make it impossible for anyone to be nice to you."**_

Her voice was ringing in his ears, over and over in a maddening loop. Not even the cool late fall air whipping around his car and into his head could shut it out. That didn't stop him from pushing the Porsche farther, faster through the back roads of Connecticut, wind rushing his ears.

He wanted to hate her. He wanted to be able to think of her as a frigid, supercilious bitch who had nothing better to do than tell people how they couldn't live up to her standards. He wanted not to think of her at all.

He thought he had pushed her out of his life. As soon as she said she hated him in front of the whole student body, the wall had come up. He was done with her. He was done trying to get to know her better, trying to find out her likes and playing them up. He was done playing the fool for her.

It was supposed to be over. Then this damn Shakespeare project came up and he was slammed into her again. Despite playing it cool, he couldn't stop saying things around her. Things he didn't want to say because he didn't want to say anything to her. He wanted to ignore her existence, but he couldn't seem to do it when she was five feet away from him.

His cell phone rang. Without looking, he knew it was Paris. She had rushed to the car as soon as she found out he was leaving rehearsal, screaming death threats at his tail lights. He had to smile. She couldn't drag him back into rehearsal if her life depended on it. She had to be boiling inside knowing he was out of her reign of control. He was out of reach to anyone.

Twenty minutes later, Tristan pulled into the parking lot of a vacant retail building on the outskirts of Hartford where Bowman and Duncan were waiting. They both sat on the flatbed of Bowman's truck, motionless until Tristan got out of his Porsche and walked over.

"Over with the Bard?" Bowman asked, sneering slightly at Tristan.

Tristan shrugged. "It was lame. I left as soon as a back was turned."

"You have your fake ID on you?"

Tristan smiled. "Don't I always?"

"We're going into Springfield. We heard there's a strip club where the bouncer usually turns a blind eye to a fake ID if he finds a Ben in his hand."

It was just his speed, but he was broke. Having Bowman and Duncan for friends usually made him broke by the end of the month with all the antics they schemed up. The last one, the car incident, brought him down to a measly $100 and that had to last the next two weeks. He couldn't ask his father for another advance. That would only make him suspicious.

"Hey, sorry, I'm out of dough."

"Yea, so are we," Duncan said with a smile.

"That's why we're going to borrow from my dad," Bowman stated.

"Right," Tristan said, keeping his laugh to himself. If anything, Bowman's father was stricter than Tristan's. "How are you going to manage that?"

"I have the key to my dad's safe. He keeps emergency money there. He never keeps track of it, though, so he won't notice if a couple thousand is missing."

Tristan's eyes went from Bowman's to Duncan's. They had to be joking. They had done some crazy things before, even illegal things, but nothing this serious.

"You want to steal money from your dad?" Tristan asked, wondering if he understood wrong.

Bowman shrugged. "It's no big deal. My dad gave me a key. Why would he give me a key if he didn't want me to have access to his safe? And why else would I want access to his safe other than to get some dough?"

It wasn't a big deal. Bowman had a key. His dad had given him a key. And Mr. Bowman wouldn't know.

"_**Maybe Duncan and Bowman aren't the best people to be hanging out with. They're not as smart as you Tristan, they don't have what you have going for you."**_

Her voice rang clear through his head. When did she become the voice of his conscience? Since when did he care what she thought about what he was doing? Since when did she care what he did in the first place?

But he couldn't deny the sense of dread he had in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong with this, even more so than all their other pranks. Maybe because this wasn't a prank, just petty theft. But saying no because of fear wasn't an option. He couldn't appear weak in front of Duncan and Bowman. Tristan couldn't appear to be weak to anyone, especially not his friends.

His cell phone rang. He took it out of his pocket. The caller ID said it was Paris again and in a split second, he made a decision. Maybe a dumb decision, but a decision, nonetheless.

He held up a finger to the guys, indicating he was taking the call, before flipping it open. "Hey, Hannah. Can't get through the night without me?"

"What?" Paris screeched into his ear. "I'm not one of your bimbo girlfriend's, Tristan."

"I know you're lonely but we agreed to keep it casual."

"Tristan, you better hope my anger ceases before tomorrow because if I get my hands on you with this same temper, you won't have to act like you died."

"I'm sorry, you're wearing what?"

"Tristan!"

"I'll be there in ten."

He flipped his phone closed and smiled at his friends, a brief image of the flaming face of Paris flashing in his head. "I'm sorry, guys, but while you go play with girls you can't touch, I'll be playing with one I can."

"Come on, Dugrey," Duncan insisted. "You can't blow us off for a girl."

Tristan shrugged as he walked backwards toward his car. "I'll tell you what. Tomorrow we'll swap stories. You can tell me how far you went with a stripper and I'll tell you how far I got with Hannah."

Tristan got into the car as Bowman and Duncan looked at each other in defeat. Tristan knew he punked out. He didn't have the balls to steal from an adult, even if it was fool proof. Worse of all, he let Rory Gilmore get to him once again.

_**xoxoxoxoxo**_

The Chilton Grand Hall was hushed when Tristan sneaked into the building. From the looks of things, the play was already into the 2nd act. He was right on time.

He spotted the bagboy standing in the back of the audience, oblivious to Tristan's entrance. Tristan decided to keep it that way. He didn't want any fireworks going off before the real show began.

He went into the hall where he was immediately attacked by Paris. "Well, well. Look who decided to show up," she growled in annoyance. "For your sake, I hope you fit into your costume since you didn't show up for the dress rehearsal today."

"Gee, Paris, it's nice to see you, too."

She shoved a bundle of fabric at him. "Get dressed. Now!"

He was getting ready to pop into one of the empty classrooms to change when Rory came out of a room, donned in a blue Elizabethan dress and head dress. It was surreal, how angelic she looked, how pure. She looked like the perfect Juliet.

He didn't say anything. He didn't want her to read him if he said something too softly or uncharacteristic. He just turned away as aloofly as possible, ducking into the next room he found.

He dressed quickly, trying to keep down his anticipation. He was going to kiss her. Yes, it was out of obligation, but it was still a kiss, and better yet, it was in front of the bagboy. No matter what, that was going to bother him, and Tristan couldn't wait to see his face.

And how would Rory act? Probably cold. Stone cold. She wouldn't feel a thing, because he was nothing to her except a poor boy who lost his way and needed a help back. He couldn't wait for the night to be over. Then he could get as far away from her as possible again. Hopefully, they wouldn't be pit together again like this.

His brown doublet fitted like a glove. A little too tight but he would have to live. The orange pants were hideous but were a better fit. He couldn't believe he was in this get up. He didn't want to look in the mirror. He had the feeling if he did, he would probably walk out before the end of the third act.

"Let's get this over with," he mumbled to himself.


	2. Chapter 1: Juliet loses it

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_I'd like to thank everyone who took the time to submit a review or put this on their story alert. I really appreciate the kind words and hope you're not disappointed in the following installments. I'm really having a great time with this and I hope it shows. Please let me know how you like this. Hope you enjoy_

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

Rory laid on a hard wooden table in silent agony as she listened to Tristan's monologue. Her tailbone was pressing into the unyielding wood, but she didn't dare move for fear of Paris causing a scene right then and there. Inwardly, she smiled. She imagined Paris taking Tristan's dagger and trying to kill Rory with it so Rory would have no excuse not to act dead. She wondered how Professor Anderson would grade that addition to the scene.

She was so grateful Professor Anderson had put a time limit on this presentation. Each group was only allowed twenty minutes for their act, which meant they had to pick the dialogues they felt were most important to highlight the essential themes. Thankfully, due to the lack of time, her death speech had been cut. Paris felt one death scene was enough to highlight that theme. Not only did that cut out her public speaking, it also cut an extra kiss she would have had to share with Tristan. So once Tristan died, another project would be in the books and hopefully she wouldn't be paired with him in the future. It was highly unlikely but a girl could dream.

She lied there, repeating in her mind Romeo's last speech. "A dateless bargain to engrossing death!" Tristan's voice boomed against the walls of the hall in a dramatic way Rory was sure Paris was relishing. "Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavory guide! Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on the dashing rocks thy seasick weary bark! Here's to my love!" Tristan paused. "Oh true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die."

She braced herself. This was the moment she was dreading, when Tristan would kiss her. They had never actually rehearsed this part and she hoped it would go off without a hitch. She wanted to curse Paris. She couldn't believe Paris insisted on a real kiss. Not only was Tristan going to kiss her in front of all these people, he was going to kiss her in front of Dean, as if he didn't want to kill Tristan already.

She felt Tristan's lips touch hers and for a moment everything was fine. Then his lips softened against hers and heat enveloped her. She sensed déjà vu and it was as if she was sitting on Madeline's piano bench again, her heart pounding with excitement. The world faded away and took her back there, and when Tristan's lips brushed hers again, she found herself responding, wanting more. She didn't know what she was doing, but she wanted to keep kissing Tristan.

Then he pulled away and plopped his head on her chest in a dramatic fashion. She realized with horror that she was still on stage, feet away from an audience, where her mother and Lane and worse of all, Dean were watching.

The main lights turned off and after a second of silence, the crowd erupted into enthusiastic applause. Tristan sat up and Rory opened her eyes, still reeling. She tried to look at Tristan. If she saw something in his eyes, she would know what she did. But she couldn't see his face as he was getting off the table. Instead, one look at Louise and Madeline's shocked faces solidified her worse fear. She had kissed Tristan back, and everyone saw it.

When she stood up to face the thunderous crowd, she caught sight of Dean's back exiting the hall. Her mind started to whirl with the consequence of it all. Before realizing it, she jumped off the stage and ran toward the exit after Dean.

The November air smacked her in the face cruelly, but she didn't have time to contemplate the justice in it. She ran toward Dean's receding back. "Dean! Wait!"

He kept walking to his green truck, oblivious to the shattered person running after him. She reached out and grabbed his jacket. "Please," she pleaded.

"I thought you were supposed be in a deep sleep or something. How can you kiss someone if you're in a deep sleep?"

"It was just part of the play. You knew he had to kiss me."

"You didn't say you had to kiss him back. Now I know why you're always stuck with him," Dean said huskily. "You wanted to play Juliet, didn't you?"

"No. Dean, I swear, it didn't mean anything."

"I'm not blind, Rory. Everyone saw you kissing him back."

"But it was a reaction. I hate Tristan. You know that."

"No, I don't, because it doesn't look that way to me, or anyone else who just saw that. You're into Tristan."

"How can you say that? He has made my life miserable since I started at Chilton. He's an arrogant jerk."

Dean stopped at the truck and turned around to face her. His eyes were full of rage and pain. "You must think I'm stupid. That day I went to Chilton and found you with him…" He ran his hand roughly through his hair. "I knew something was up. But you told me you hated him and loved me. I believed you. But you're not fooling anyone, Rory. Not anymore, especially not me."

"What are you saying?"

Dean paused a moment, setting his jaw before uttering, "It's over."

The words stabbed daggers into her heart. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a really bad dream caused by all the junk food she had the night before when she and her mother had Gilmore Movie night. Dean couldn't be dumping her again.

She had to reverse this. She had to make him understand. "Dean, please, I don't-"

But he was getting into his truck, turning a deaf ear to her pleas. All she could do was step back and get out of his way as he maneuvered his truck out of the parking spot and out of the Chilton parking lot. She stood in place, hugging herself against the fall chill. What just happened? How did she end up here, standing in the middle of Chilton's parking lot, watching her boyfriend's- no, ex-boyfriend's car disappear into the night? Her heart ached terribly. What was she going to do? How was she going to fix this?

She wasn't sure, but at that moment her ache turned to anger. She decided the thing she wanted to do most was to rip Tristan to shreds. He was the cause of this. He lingered. He was supposed to give her a quick peck and die, but he lingered.

She started to walk back to the Grand Hall when she saw her mother, Sookie and Lane come out to the parking lot. Lorelai looked especially concerned. Rory couldn't deal with her mother right now. She had to go kill Tristan.

Rory walked past them, even though Lorelai called her name. She went into the hall, where all the groups had dispersed into the audience. Tristan wasn't in sight. She walked the back halls, hoping he was still changing back into his clothes. She checked all the rooms, but they were empty.

Where did he go? Was he that quick in changing? How was she going to kill him if she couldn't find him?

She headed back to the main hall and Paris confronted her near her destination. Before she could open her mouth, Rory cut her off. "Not now, Paris."

The blonde ignored her. "What just happened in there?" Paris demanded.

"I don't know."

"Then let me paint you the picture. You're lying there, perfectly dead, then Tristan kisses you and all of a sudden you have a pulse. Have you lost your mind? Let's forget for a second that you were kissing back Tristan. Tristan! The boy you repeatedly rejected and shouted from every rooftop that you hated, not to mention you set me up with in some brief lapse of insanity. Let's scratch all that. We were to perform a classical rendition of Romeo and Juliet, and all you had to do was play dead while Tristan kissed you. And you couldn't do it. You had to kiss him back, in front of the whole student body, the faculty, the staff, and other people who were sorry enough to witness that, not to mention your boyfriend, who I'm pretty sure was not happy at all with his girlfriend kissing another guy. Do you really think Professor Anderson is going to give us a good interpretation grade when our comatose Juliet responded to Romeo's kiss?"

Paris had just summed up all of Rory's fears and added a couple of new ones, making Rory's heart sink deeper into her stomach. Paris's tirade pushed her to the edge. If she didn't get away, she wasn't sure what she would do. "I have to get out of here."

She walked away from Paris, feeling as if she was going to see her dinner splattered on the Grand Hall floor when she heard Paris behind her. "You better hope we got an A on this or you'll be sorry."

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

The drive back to Stars Hollow was a strained one. Everyone kept their peace as Rory wallowed in her misery. What was she supposed to do about this? She already tried explaining this to Dean, and not very convincingly. Now Paris was pissed off at her for not staying in character. Who knew what Tristan was thinking? She wondered how he was going to use this to torture her. He probably would hold that kiss over her head forever.

When Lorelai asked Rory if she still wanted to go to Luke's, Rory opted to go home instead. She didn't have an appetite and the last thing she wanted was to break down at Luke's, which Rory thought was a real possibility. Lorelai dropped off Lane first, with Lane promising to call Rory the next day. Then Sookie was driven home with few encouraging words about everything would be better tomorrow. Rory hoped her mother wouldn't say anything. But when they both trudged into the house, Lorelai started.

"That was an incredibly realistic rendition of Romeo and Juliet," she commented as she hung up her jacket.

"Mom, don't," Rory pleaded.

"Don't what? Ask why? Because I think that's a fair question."

"I don't have answers." Rory headed toward her room, hoping her mother would drop the subject.

She didn't. Her mother followed her and continued. "How can that be? The only one who would have answers to this is you. You're the one who had the frame of mind to do this."

Rory tossed her jacket to a far corner of the room. "Tristan is the one that lingered. If he would have just pecked me like he was supposed to, none of this would have happened."

"Oh, honey. You're transferring the blame?"

Rory finally faced her mother, hoping to drive the point home. "I don't want to talk about this. Why are you making me talk about this?"

"You just kissed back your worse enemy at Chilton, which in turn caused your boyfriend, who you love, to end your perfect relationship. The fact that you don't know why you did this is even more disturbing. I just want to be able to understand why my daughter would do this."

"I already told you. I don't have any answers."

Lorelai paused for a second before continuing. "Do you still love Dean?" She asked softly.

"Yes," Rory answered automatically.

"You answered that very quickly."

"Mother! Of course I love Dean."

"I just think you should really think about it. If you really love him, why would you do this?"

"I don't think you're getting this. I don't know why I did that. If I could take it back, I would. But I can't. So I'm just going to think about what an idiot I was to do this and pine over the fact that I lost Dean again."

"What about Tristan?"

"_What_ about Tristan? There's nothing about Tristan."

"Do you have any feelings for him?"

"No," Rory snapped. Then she sighed when she realized she had also said that too quickly. Even though she felt she didn't have feelings for Tristan, she couldn't accept that since she had kissed him back. There had to have been a reason she did that. Rory sat down on her bed, giving her time to think about her answer. "I don't know. I just pity him. I want to be nice to him. He's going through a lot right now. But every time I do, he just becomes this jerk and I hate him."

"Are you crossing the line?"

"What line?"

"The love/hate line."

"Mom!"

"It's possible."

"I don't love Tristan. I don't even like him."

"Well, I think you're going to have to make sure, Rory. Because what just happened is catastrophic, and if you don't like Tristan, you better be 100 percent sure of it before you try to find another explanation to all this."

Lorelai left the room and Rory slumped back on her pillows. A few seconds alone and the whole weight of the situation pressed down on her. The first hot tear rolled down her cheek, quickly followed by another, until Rory was curled up in a ball on her bed, crying herself to a fitful sleep.


	3. Chapter 2: An outcast Juliet

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_I continue to be amazed by the reviews you keep submitting. Like I said, this is the first fanfic I've written ever, so it's mindblowing that people like it so far. I think I would have abandoned it by now if it wasn't for all the positive feedback. As always, I hope you enjoy._

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

Monday morning, Rory entered Chilton with a sense of dread. She couldn't see how this day could be anything but disastrous. She was likely to get back her grade for the Death Scene that day, which would reveal how much her actions cost her grade. If Paris wasn't happy with the grade, she might rip Rory to shreds. And she might bump into Tristan. Even though on Sunday night she could have killed him, Monday she wasn't so inclined. She didn't know what he would say if he saw her and she was afraid he would bring up the kiss. She wasn't ready to talk about it with him and didn't know how she ever would be.

She made it through the morning periods scratch free. Paris had kept her distance and was apparently ignoring her. At that point, Rory didn't care. She was sure if Professor Anderson gave their group an A, Paris would be appeased.

Rory didn't see Tristan until lunch. She sat at her usual table, opened her soda can and took out her copy of Wuthering Heights from her backpack. She was ready to get away for the half hour and tag along with Heathcliff and Cathy, leaving her woes behind. She alternated between taking bites from her grilled cheese and reading Emily Bronte. But at one point, when she was taking a bite from her sandwich her eyes fell upon him. He was sitting at a table across the room, his head bowed, his blond hair ruffled. It took her a moment to register him eating by himself. She frowned. Where were Duncan and Bowman? She looked around but didn't see them. She returned her attention to Tristan. She wondered if they got suspended, then wondered how Tristan escaped the punishment. It was very suspicious.

She couldn't help but stare at Tristan for a moment. He seemed somewhat vulnerable without his posse around him. She wondered why he would sit by himself when he was the King of Chilton. He could sit with anyone he wanted. Why was he opting to sit alone?

He looked up from his food and his icy blue eyes locked onto hers. For a moment she was startled, but didn't look away. She wasn't sure why, but she thought maybe if she looked at him long enough, she would get the answers to her questions. But she couldn't read what he was thinking. He broke the stare, stood up with his tray and walked away. It seemed to Rory that even Tristan wanted to ignore her.

When Rory entered Professor Anderson's class that afternoon, Paris glanced at her with an annoyed look and turned her back, carrying a conversation with Louise and Madeline, who only stole a quick peek at Rory. Rory slumped in her chair and moped at being ousted again by the girls.

"Hey, did you hear about Bowman and Duncan?" She heard a boy behind her whisper loudly.

"No, what?" his friend answered.

"They got caught stealing from Bowman's dad's safe. They were even arrested. Their dads had them pulled from school. "

"Whoa. That's a bummer. I wonder how Tristan got away with it."

"Tristan wasn't even involved. It looks like Tristan was left out of this one. Lucky him."

"Everyone to your seats," Professor Anderson instructed as she came through the door before Rory could even process what she just heard. Everyone did as they were told and quieted down. The professor smiled. "I'd like to thank all of you for making our Shakespeare Festival a success. All of your versions were well done. At the end of the class, I will give your directors the evaluations and you will all have a few minutes to discuss your grade. I think everyone will be pleased."

Rory sat on pins and needles, waiting for the end of the class. She was anxious to know what grade they received on this project. She could only hope Professor Anderson wasn't putting them on as to how pleased she was with the project. If they got good news, Rory wouldn't have a bad grade to add to all this madness and maybe Paris would forget about the kiss altogether.

When Professor Anderson stopped the class to hand back the evaluations, all the groups huddled together to find out the results. Rory reluctantly joined Paris, Madeline and Louise to find out the verdict.

"How did we do?" Rory asked.

"A B+," Paris spat in disgust. "I can't believe we got a B+."

"What did she say?" Rory asked.

"Apparently, our interpretation concept wasn't original enough. But she did give kudos to the very convincing main actors. I wonder why."

Rory's face blushed. "Paris, I-"

"Don't bother, Rory. The project is over, we got our grade, and we can just thank the heavens Tristan was able to stay out of trouble long enough to actually play Romeo. I just feel sorry for you now. I can only imagine how crushed your boyfriend, if he's still your boyfriend, must have felt watching his girlfriend kissing back a juvenile delinquent in front of a hundred other people. I know I was thoroughly disgusted. So have fun living with that."

Paris walked out of the room, Madeline and Louise following closely behind, leaving Rory feeling this situation would only get worse.

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

When Rory got off the bus after school, she took the long way home to pass by Doose's Market. She was surprised to find Dean coming out the store with a couple of paper bags in his arms. Rory ran after him. "Dean, where are you going?" She asked, coming up beside him.

He didn't even look at her. "Mrs. Miller's. She needs this delivered right away."

"Good. That gives us some time to talk."

"Rory, I don't want to talk about it."

"But Dean-"

He stopped and turned to her. "Can you even imagine what that was like? All those people there, and they all saw what I saw."

"It was a mistake. It didn't mean anything."

"That doesn't make me feel better, Rory! You kissed back that Hartford scum for kicks. But it didn't mean anything, so I should just forgive you and move on?"

"I can't explain it any other way than to say it was a temporary lapse of insanity. But I don't like Tristan. I swear."

Dean fell silent for several seconds before picking up his pace. "I got to go."

"Dean, please. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to change this. Everyone is mad at me and I don't know how to make things right. Please, just tell me what to do to make this right."

She looked down at the sidewalk in defeat. Maybe she was talking in vain. Maybe she didn't deserve to find a way to resolve this. Maybe this was how it was going to be.

Dean hesitated, then growled in frustration and walked away from her with the packages, solidifying her feeling of helplessness. She didn't know whether she wanted to cry or yell. Why couldn't this just be forgotten?

She had to talk to her mother about this. Maybe she had a way to get out of this mess, even though she hadn't been supportive the night before.

She hurried home, hoping her mother had already gotten home from the inn.

When she got to her house, she saw her mother's jeep in the driveway and thanked God as she jogged up the walk. Getting through the front door, Rory dropped her backpack in the foyer and yelled, "Mom!"

"Kitchen!" Lorelai yelled back.

Lorelai sat at the table, flipping through a magazine while drinking coffee out of her favorite mug. Rory plopped down in the chair across from her. "Dean doesn't want to talk to me."

"Do you blame him?" She commented without looking up from the magazine.

"I just wanted to talk things out and he shot me down."

"I don't think you can talk the image of you and Bible Boy out of Dean's head."

So far, Rory wasn't hearing what she needed to hear. "I'm looking for a sympathetic ear."

"Oh, sorry, let me put my sympathetic ear on." Lorelai touched her left ear and smiled sympathetically at Rory. "I can't believe Dean wouldn't talk to you. What a jerk! Why can't he understand it was all a mistake? How's that?"

"Much better."

Lorelai turned somber. "Sweetie, you can't expect Dean to jump at the chance to talk about this. Besides, how are you going to talk to him without having an explanation as to why you did this? You really should be searching for an answer to that before begging for mercy."

Rory folded her arms in front of her chest. "Maybe we can fly Sherlock in to figure it out."

"How was school?"

"We got a B+ on the death scene."

"That's good."

"Yea, apparently we lost points with our uninspired take on it, but we scored some extra for the incredible acting chops of Romeo and Juliet."

Lorelai gave her a small smile. "It would be funny if it was under other circumstances."

"Paris is being extra catty. I had to pull her claws off me after Professor Anderson's class."

"What about Bible Boy?"

Rory thought about how he got up and left when he saw her at lunch. "I only saw him at lunch and he left quickly."

"I think you should talk to him."

"What? I can't talk to Tristan about this. He'll just twist it and make it about me wanting him."

"He's probably the only person that can help you find out why you kissed him back. It's either that or write a letter to Abby."

Rory got up from the table, not feeling any better about the situation after the conversation. It looked like she was on her own. "I'll figure something out," she said as she headed back to the foyer. She would definitely figure something out, after she spent the next two hours dedicating herself to her homework, trying to forget the situation and erasing the image of Dean's dark eyes clouded with sadness.


	4. Chapter 3: Talking to Romeo

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_I hope everyone had a nice holiday season and are enjoying the New Year. Each day, I can't wait to work on this story and I haven't written this much since I was 19, so this is very therapeutic. It so much fun, too. So enjoy and thank you for your continuing support._

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

Two weeks later, Rory still hadn't figured something out and Lorelai's advice kept yelling for her attention in her head. Things had calmed down but nothing was restored between Dean and her. In fact, he was ignoring her existence. Whenever she saw him at the town square, he would make sure he was on the other side of it, no matter where he was going. If she went into Doose's Market, he would suddenly disappear in the back storage room. After a week, she stopped trying to corner him.

Paris conceded a bit, but was mostly ignoring her. The only time she really spoke to Rory was during Franklin meetings, and only when absolutely necessary. In turn, Louise and Madeline were ignoring her existence, too. Rory was a loner before, but now she was a plague to be avoided at all costs.

Worst of all, she didn't know what caused it. She sat in her room at times, replaying the scene over and over again in her mind. She would close her eyes, feel Tristan's lips on hers, feel her heart skip a beat and get goose pimples all over her skin. But she didn't know why, because in her mind she was somehow disgusted and exhilarated at the fact that she kissed Tristan. How could two conflicting emotions exist when it came to the same incident?

She came to the conclusion that she needed to talk to him and hopefully find out why she had kissed him back. Problem was, Tristan was mostly MIA at Chilton. She didn't have any classes with him that year and whenever she passed by his locker in hopes of talking to him, he wasn't there. The only time she could talk to him for sure was during lunch, when Tristan would sit down at a corner table, leaf through a magazine while wolfing down his lunch in ten minutes, then disappear. She hated the idea of approaching him where the whole school could see, but after a few days of trying to corner him in the halls without success, she felt she had no choice.

She sat down at her usual table with her tray, not bothering to even open her soda. She took a bite of her sandwich and waited, hoping he wouldn't stay away until the end of the lunch hour to make his appearance. He didn't. Five minutes after Rory sat down Tristan walked past her with his tray and a magazine in the pocket of his Chilton blazer on his way to his table. She watched him sit down, open his soda and take a bite out of his burger before she made her move.

She picked up her tray and marched toward his table, her stomach doing flips. She knew it was mostly her imagination, but she couldn't help but feel the Chiltonites' eyes on her as she made her way to the back of the room. She didn't have much of a choice. Tristan was the key to getting this resolved.

She walked up to the table, standing behind the chair across from Tristan's, and he didn't lift his head. For one second, she thought about bailing before he would notice, but she stopped herself. "May I sit?"

He turned a page of his magazine before looking up. She registered surprised in his eyes before he turned his eyes back to the magazine. "It's a free country," he said nonchalantly.

She dumped her backpack on the chair next to hers and sat down. She watched him as she opened her pop. He didn't seem inclined to start a conversation with her. She noticed the magazine was for car aficionados and decided to start a conversation on that. "So, are you planning to put a new car on your Christmas wish list?"

He smiled slightly. "No, just choosing the one I should steal."

"You don't steal," Rory stated as she took a sip of her soda.

"I don't?"

"You have no need for it."

"I know that, but it's an adrenaline rush."

"Then why weren't you in on the Bowman-Duncan robbery attempt?"

She watched as his face went from went from slightly amused to somber. "I got lucky. I was called to another engagement."

She nodded, wondering what would have happened if Tristan had been involved. Would he have been pulled out of Chilton, too? Where would he have gone? What would Chilton be like without him?

Would this whole thing have been avoided?

He stared at her and she slowly found herself staring back. His eyes mesmerized her. They were almost gray in that light, like the Long Island Sound on a stormy day. She wondered how anyone could resist him after staring into those eyes.

She jolted to the realization she was thinking thoughts she wasn't supposed to. She needed to get her mind off that. "Winter break is coming up."

"Is that why there are Christmas decorations all over Chilton?"

"Do you have plans?"

"Well, Laurent and Harriet have planned a trip to Martinique."

"Laurent and Harriet?" Rory repeated uncertainly.

"The parental units."

"Martinique might be fun."

"Yea, too bad I'm not going."

Rory frowned. "You're not going with them?"

"No. The trip is strictly adults only. I'm on my own this year."

Rory couldn't believe it. She tried to imagine how she would feel if her mother went somewhere exotic without her. Rory probably wouldn't talk to her for a year. How could his parents do this to him?

"What are you going to do?" she queried.

Tristan shrugged. "I'll find something." He held up the magazine for her. "It's plenty of time to plan that carjacking. And you? What are you doing?"

"I'm going to work at my mom's inn. This entity, The Bracebridge Group, reserved the whole inn and we're going to have this 19th century meal. We're wearing period clothing and having period music."

"Sounds period boring."

"It's going to be fun. Other than that, absolutely nothing."

"You mean, no hay rides in the countryside with stock boy?"

She looked down at her food, not wanting to convey too much pain in her face he could easily read. "Dean and I broke up."

He didn't say anything right away and she wondered if he was thinking of anything smart to say. "I guess things weren't going as well as you thought."

She should have brought up the kiss at this moment. She could tell him it was because the kiss and ask him what he thought and have a real conversation, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. "Can we get off the subject please?"

"I'm done, anyway." Tristan shoved the magazine in his pocket and stood up. "I have to contemplate why someone who hates me and thinks I'm pathetic would have lunch with me."

"You can just ask."

"Nah, I like a challenge."

He picked up his tray and was gone, leaving her just as confused as when she had sat down. She watched as he placed his tray on the discarded tray counter and walked out into the courtyard. As she returned her eyes to her tray, her eyes locked onto a pair of dark eyes that were Paris's. The intensity of the gaze sent a sense of foreboding into her bones. Rory had a feeling Paris wasn't happy about seeing Rory and Tristan sitting together for lunch, and Paris was going to let Rory know.

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

"I've called this emergency meeting because I wanted to discuss the first issue of the Franklin for the New Year before everyone goes on winter break."

Paris looked around the table at everyone assembled, as if making sure everyone was paying attention. Her eyes lingered on Rory before she continued. "I want to make sure the first issue of the New Year is extra special, and with that in mind, I've decided we will be doing a double issue. That means more news, more columns and more assignments. I've come up with some ideas that will fill out the paper." Paris started to hand out a list. "They've all been assigned. One should be handed in by Friday before break. The other two will be handed in by Tuesday after break."

Rory looked at her sheet, looking over her three assignments. Paris must have gone over the edge. How did she expect everyone to get this done in the couple of days before the deadline? Before she spoke up to ask the question, Daniel, the sports columnist, beat Rory to the punch. "When are we going to have time to write two extra stories?"

"Did everyone forget we have three weeks of winter break? That's plenty of time to draft, proofread and rewrite your extra assignments. All these assignments shall be of equal quality so I suggest you make up a plan to spend equal amounts of time on each story. This issue will be a promissory note of what is to come next year. This issue will say 'This is a new year and the Franklin will be better than ever, and here's the proof.'"

"But winter break is all about having a break," Rory pointed out. "We've worked very hard this year and I think that shows in each issue. We deserve the time off."

"When does the news take time off, Rory?" Paris asked passionately. "We take three weeks off, but does the news? While you're sledding down a hillside packed with snow, drink hot cocoa by a fireside or unwrap presents, do you think the news just sits and twiddles its thumbs, waiting for the break to end to continue its life? No! The news never takes breaks, and since we report the news, we never take breaks. Does everyone understand that?"

Everyone reluctantly stored their assignment away, as if resigned to their botched break. Rory did the same, not willing to do battle against Paris by herself. Leave it to Paris to ruin something seemingly untouchable as a school break. Her break officially sucked.

After the meeting, Rory left the room and headed toward the exit when she suddenly felt a presence next to her. "I saw you talking to Tristan today at lunch," Paris stated as she fell into step with Rory. "Care to share why?"

"That's none of your business."

"Fair enough, but I hope you know what you're doing. Tristan isn't exactly boyfriend material. He tends to be a bad influence on his girlfriends and I've seen several B average girls become D students while dating Tristan. The only reason I tell you this is because I won't tolerate average stories for the Franklin. If you don't keep up the quality of your work, I won't hesitate dropping you. Clear?"

"And yet you wanted to date him."

"I don't do love sick puppy. I would have been able to handle it."

Rory shook her head at the ridiculous subject they were discussing. "I'm not dating Tristan. I was just talking to him. You have nothing to worry about."

"Good. I'd hate to see the fragile trust I have in you disappear with your involvement with Tristan."

Paris walked away from Rory, as Rory wondered why Paris still had a thing for Tristan if she thought Tristan wasn't boyfriend material.


	5. Chapter 4: Juliet Blindsided

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_Okay, so this chapter is a little longer than usual, only because I didn't want to make the next chapter sad at all. And yes, this one ends on another sad note, but I promise the next chapter won't, and I can't wait to post it. So please continue to be kind and sorry for the little spoiler of the end of this chapter, but I promise Rory will get out of her funk soon._

_**xoxoxoxoxo**_

Rory sat at a table in Luke's diner, staring outside the window at the rows of snowmen that were being erected. Her attention was especially drawn to an older man in red flannel who was using a power buffer on his Ebenezer Scrooge snowman. She turned away in disgust. How can someone compete with that?

Lorelai sat down across from Rory and set a mug in front of Rory. "Danke," Rory said as she took a sip of Luke's wonderful brew.

"So, have you figured out what you're going to do about Dean yet?"

Rory shook her head. "I tried talking to Tristan yesterday. I just wanted to see if there was anything there I could pick up on. All I got was Tristan being suddenly suspicious of my motives."

"Did you even talk about the kiss?"

"No. It just seems weird. When we kissed at Madeline's party, we both agreed it was a mistake caused by our respective dumps. I don't have a reason to justify this one and I don't need him to use this as an example of how much I want him."

"Do you?"

Rory frowned. "Do I what?"

"Want Tristan?"

"Mom!"

"It's a legitimate question."

"I don't want Tristan. I can barely stand him."

"So if you didn't talk about the kiss, what did you talk about?"

Rory recalled the Martinique trip. "Would you ever go somewhere exotic without inviting me?"

"Considering you are my compass and I'd probably get lost without you, I'd say no."

"Tristan's parents are going to Martinique without him."

"I would, too, if I thought I didn't have to spend half of the time bailing him out of jail."

"But don't you think it's sad? He doesn't have anyone to spend the holidays with. He's probably going to spend the whole break in the big vacant mansion, walking around in old sweats, eat cookie dough out of the plastic, bored out of his mind and wondering if anyone would notice if he just disappeared of the face of the earth."

"That, or he'll throw a huge party, invite loads of girls and end up being voted the winter break hero by all the silver spooners that were condemned to spend their break at boring holiday parties sponsored by the DAR."

"I just think it's unfortunate."

"I'm sure they have their reasons."

"Did your parents ever go away for the holidays without you?"

Lorelai shook her head. "But sometimes I had wished they had."

Rory tried to take another sip of coffee, only to find her cup empty. She looked at the counter where Luke and Jess stood, nudging each other for space at the counter. "More coffee, please."

Jess gave Luke one final nudge before grabbing the coffee pot and coming over to the table. Jess poured coffee into her cup, giving her a small smile. "Are you helping to populate the park with snowmen?"

"They're a dying breed," Lorelai answered. "They have to make their home somewhere."

"Especially after what happened to Frosty," Rory added.

"I hear the rest of the snowmen are voting Ebenezer out of the tribe," Jess said.

"I heard that, too," Lorelai agreed. "It's a shame. He seems like such a nice snowman."

Jess walked away and Lorelai turned her attention to Rory. "So what's next in your plan?"

Rory looked into her coffee mug. "I don't know what else to do. I tried talking to Dean. I tried talking to Tristan. Nothing is helping."

"I'm sure something will come up, honey. You just have to have patience."

Rory nodded, hoping her mother was right. Rory looked outside again, noting the sculptor of the Ebenezer snowman was gone. Rory turned back to her mother with a devilish smile. "Want to kick Ebenezer?"

Lorelai returned her daughter's smile. "Let's do it."

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

The next day, Rory sat down for lunch, placing her copy of Jane Eyre in front of her tray. She inadvertently looked in the direction of the back of the room and saw Tristan at his usual table, chewing his food. She hesitated a moment, doubting herself, before picking up her book and tray. She knew she was crazy, but she couldn't help herself from going to him.

She sat down across from him, placing her book in front of her tray again. Tristan looked up from his magazine, frowning slightly at her presence. "Couldn't stay away?"

Rory bit her lip to keep from snapping back at that remark. "Do you mind if I sit?"

Tristan shook his head. "Twice in one week. I must be a very good boy to have deserved this."

"Forget it." Rory reached out to grab her book with the intention of standing up and walking back to her table. Why did he have to be so irritating? Why did she bother? She was an idiot, she thought in frustration.

He grabbed her wrist just as it clasped on to her book. "Touchy, are we?"

"I think I have Alzheimer's. I keep forgetting how much of a pain you are."

He smiled wider. "It's part of my charm. You can stay."

"Gee, I'm so honored," she said sarcastically. "I'm going to have to make an entry in my diary."

"You mean, along with the other entries where you describe the hot, steamy fantasies you have of me?"

"Yea, the ones where I murder you in a hundred different ways."

"Well, I've never heard of it described in that way before, but I have heard of people dying during the act. I guess you're more imaginative than I thought."

"You're disgusting." She pulled her wrist back and grabbed for the book with her other hand, but he grabbed that one, too.

"You're too uptight."

"Would you just let me get my book and get out of here?"

Tristan sighed. "Stay. This is the longest time I've been without having someone to sit with at lunch, and I know people think I'm losing my edge. Sitting with you is better than sitting alone."

Rory hesitated. She was still repulsed by what he said, but he looked very sincere, even a little pleading. She still felt sorry for him and she might be the only person he could count on right now. That wasn't saying much.

She slightly nodded and pulled her hand away from the book. Tristan kept his eyes on her for a second before getting back to his macaroni and beef. She felt a bit sorry for him. She could only imagine what it was like for him. He was the notorious bad boy of Chilton, the ringleader of a trio of pranksters, the most talked about person at school. Now he was left behind, on his own, looking more like a loner than the most popular boy in school. He was obviously lucky. Who knows what would have happened if he had been involved in the theft of Mr. Bowman's safe? But what was left of him now? How long would it take him to rebuild his posse? Would he ever bounce back?

She needed to get her mind off the depressing subject. She opened her book and bit into her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Before she got to read a line, Tristan reached over to the book and closed it. Rory faced him, surprised and annoyed. "Tristan!"

"If people see me sitting with you and you're reading a book, my rep will be shot to hell."

"Then pick a subject and start talking."

She barely finished her statement before she heard, "Why did you and John-boy call it quits?"

Rory was taken aback. She hadn't expected that subject. She stole a glance at the end of the table. There were a couple of girls sneaking glances at Tristan, but oblivious to Rory's existence. They wouldn't care if Rory talked to Tristan about why Dean had kicked her to the curb. This would have been another perfect opportunity to talk about the kiss, but Rory found herself unprepared. If he had to ask why they broke up, maybe he didn't realize that she had kissed him back during the play. It sounded impossible, but why else wouldn't he put two and two together? She wasn't about to enlighten him either. She had to think about what she would say when she did.

She didn't mind denying him something, either. "Pick another subject."

"Still too painful to talk about?"

"I rather not talk about it at this time."

Tristan shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "Another time, then. How did your mom like our rendition of Romeo and Juliet?"

Rory shrugged. "Just fine."

"Wasn't too realistic for her?"

Rory took in his mischievous eyes and sly smile and knew. He _was_ aware of what happened. He knew she kissed him back. He suspected that caused her break up with Dean. He probably thought it was the reason she was approaching him all of a sudden. She felt her face burn in embarrassment. She thought she was nonchalant, but by the way he was smiling, he had to suspect something.

She couldn't give him the satisfaction of him knowing he caught her off guard twice in a row. She mustered a casual shrug. "She just thought it was excellent acting."

His smile grew. "I told you I was a good actor. I just didn't realize how good you were, especially during that kiss."

The bell rang, prompting Rory to thank a higher being for the act of mercy. She hadn't been sure how she was going to respond to his comment. She was too busy trying to see through the red. Tristan stood up with his tray. "Maybe I shouldn't have been the one worrying about showing passion on stage."

He gave her a cocky smirk and walked away, leaving Rory wondering for the umpteenth time how she could have been so idiotic to have kissed the arrogant jerk.

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

When Rory got home that afternoon, she found her mother and Sookie standing in the kitchen, looking at each other with crestfallen faces. This was a rare sight. Sure, her mother had sad moments, but Sookie? It was like she was always on some happy pill. Something major must have happened.

Rory was almost afraid to ask, but curiosity got the best of her. "Who died?"

"They're snowed in," Sookie muttered grumpily.

Rory frowned. "Who is snowed in?"

"The Bracebridge group," Lorelai provided. "We got the call this morning. They can't get another flight in for a couple days so they had to cancel."

Rory was shocked and disappointed. She was looking forward to the Bracebridge dinner, too. She was in charge of registration and she was looking forward to seeing everyone that would come in. She wanted to see everyone in their costumes. She had even thought of suggesting to her mom that she wear her Juliet costume and talk in Old English like everyone else. This definitely put a damper on her winter break plans.

"Oh, no," was all she could whisper.

"We have a kitchen full of food," Sookie murmured.

"Plus, we hired all that extra help," Lorelai added.

"Now we're stuck with it all," Sookie concluded.

"What are we going to do?" Rory asked.

"There's nothing we can do, sweets," Lorelai said as she put her arm around Rory and gave her a squeeze. "Hey, why don't you change out of your uniform? Sookie and I are going to get some happy coffee to help cheer us up."

Even though Rory doubted coffee would help at this moment, she never turned it down. Rory went into her room and closed the door behind her. Poor Lorelai and Sookie. They worked so hard to make this dinner perfect. Now it was ruined.

Absentminded, Rory tossed her yellow book bag towards her bed, her mind on rummaging through her drawers for something to change into. It was an action she had done many times, and usually resulted in no more than a rustle of vinyl against cotton. But before she opened a drawer, she heard a thud. She turned around and frowned when she saw a medium sized cardboard box on her bed. She didn't recognize it at all. Where did it come from?

She walked up to it and looked inside. It was only half full with CDs, DVDs and books. One book in particular caught her eye. It was on top of the stack with a blue bookmark. The cover read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. It looked vaguely familiar. She opened it and saw her handwriting on the inside cover. For Dean. She had given this to Dean. She looked at the bookmark inserted near the end of the book. When she pulled it out, she realized it was the ticket to the Chilton Winter formal from last year. Her heart broke anew. She sifted through all the items of the box, cataloging with growing despair each item to the event it was linked to. Dean had returned her presents, something he hadn't done with the first breakup. That had to mean he was serious about not being with her again.

This couldn't be happening. Rory opened her bed room door. "Mom, where did this box come from?"

Lorelai approached Rory cautiously. "What box?" She asked innocently.

"The box on my bed. The one with all the books and CDs."

Lorelai shook her head. "I don't know of any box. Do you know of any box?" She asked Sookie.

Sookie immediately tensed. "Box?" She repeated nervously. "No, no boxes. I'm allergic to boxes. Hate the things. I sneeze when I see one."

Rory shot Lorelai a serious look that made her cave. "Okay," Lorelai conceded. "When we pulled up to the house, Dean was just getting in his truck and driving away. Then we found the box on the porch."

"And I lied about being allergic to boxes," Sookie confessed.

"I can't believe he did this," she whispered despondently. "He didn't bring things over last time." She swallowed hard as a realization slowly came to light. "He doesn't think we'll get back together. He doesn't want my stuff so he mustn't want me.

She closed her eyes, trying to fight back the tears blurring her vision all of a sudden. Dean and Rory were officially over. The realization hit her full force now. If he was so convinced they'd never get back together he would bring back her things, then it was officially over.

"Honey, he's just hurt and confused," Lorelai provided pathetically.

Rory looked down at the scuffed kitchen tile, not wanting her mother or Sookie to see the welling tears. "No, I know him. I'm not getting him back."

Lorelai came to her, enveloping her in loving arms. Rory let a few tears escape before fighting them again. She already wallowed. She shed tears over this and she didn't want to continue doing it. She had to get a hold of herself.

"Hey, I bet some of Luke's famous coffee would come in handy right about now," Sookie suggested.

Lorelai pulled away and gave Rory a wry smile. "Come on. We'll take out our frustrations out on Luke. Maybe we can get him to toss a toaster."

Rory nodded. She didn't want to be close to Dean's box of things at that moment. She needed and welcomed the distraction.


	6. Chapter 5: Juliet's Cupcake

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_I don't have much to say this time, only that I hope you enjoy this. Thanks for all the comments. They fill my heart and inspire me to keep writing. Thanks again._

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

The next day, Rory felt slightly better. She still didn't like the fact that she had a box of things she had given Dean in her house. When she had come home the night before, she had picked up the box and shoved it in the hallway closet, intending not to see it ever again. But now she had a project she was sure would take her mind off of things. While Rory sat with Lorelai and Sookie at Luke's, they had come up with a great idea to minimize the damage caused by the Bracebridge group canceling the dinner. Taking into consideration that the group had paid in advance for the rooms and all the food that was prepared, it was decided to substitute the Bracebridge group with all their friends from Stars Hollow.

Rory loved the idea, but there was a lot to be done to pull this all together in the next two days. Therefore, when lunch came around, Rory sat at her usual table with her tray of food, a mini floor plan of the Independence Inn and a list of people her mother, Sookie and Rory planned on inviting. Her assignment was to put everyone in a room and make sure to accommodate all the special needs only the people of Stars Hollow would have.

She opened her carton of chocolate milk and got to work. Between bites of baked chicken, mashed potatoes and sips of milk, Rory managed to give Babette and Mory, Lane and Mrs. Kim, and Luke and Jess their rooms. While she was considering where to put Taylor Doose and whether she should bunk him with someone, she heard the chair across from hers scrape the floor. She looked up to see Tristan turning the wooden chair around and straddling the back of it, his arms resting on the top of the chair. "Hey," he greeted.

Rory instantly remembered the last time she had spoken to him. Her voice turned to ice. "Goodbye, Tristan," Rory replied, getting back to the list.

He tilted his head quizzically. "Are you going somewhere?"

"No. I was hinting at your leaving."

"Am I bothering you?"

"I'm busy."

He tilted his chin toward her list. "What are you doing?"

She looked up again, irritated. "You don't know the meaning of goodbye, do you?"

"You were kind enough to sit with me. I thought I'd return the favor."

She didn't have the strength to argue with him. She was too concerned with the task at hand. She started reviewing the list again for Taylor's roommate. "Booking rooms."

Tristan frowned. "Come again?

"I'm booking rooms."

"You officially lost me."

"You probably don't remember but there was this big dinner at my mom's inn, the Bracebridge dinner."

"I vaguely remember."

"Well, the Bracebridge group got snowed in and we're left with all this food and we hired all this extra help. So instead of having it go to waste, we're inviting a bunch of people to stay at the inn in lieu of the Bracebridge group. But now we have to fit all these people in the rooms and be careful not to start World War 3."

"When is the dinner?"

"Tomorrow night."

Tristan nodded. "So you're Friday night plans entail acting like you live in the Middle Ages."

"I guess so."

"Your social calendar is remarkable."

"What do you know about my calendar?"

He smirked, a heart-wrenching smile escaping his lips in his attempt to suppress a laugh. "I saw you at the DAR Debutant Ball."

Rory's face turned beet red. "You saw that?"

He smiled wider. "Your curtsy has been the best one I've seen all season. Usually, the debutant is too drunk to do it right. She either falters or falls completely. It's very entertaining."

"Consider yourself honored since I'm not partaking in any more debutant balls. The girls are kooks. This one girl told me the ball was an indication of who you would marry. One of five girls marries her escort."

Tristan's smile faded. "What?"

"That's what she said."

"I've been an escort to four of the balls."

Rory laughed. "Watch your step there. The next one might be the one."

"I'm never going to be an escort again."

Rory laughed again at the concerned look on his face. She could just imagine that to a Tristan Dugrey type, a marriage was instant kryptonite.

After the laughter died, they were quiet for a couple of moments, their eyes locking on each others. Rory's heart skipped a beat, but she chose to chalk it up to the stress created by assigning rooms. Still, there was tension there, and she was going to break it. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

He leaned forward in his seat. "I'm planning this period party. You know, medieval dresses, a lot of Old English, maybe even a jester. But I hear there's another period dinner near by, so that will put a damper on the whole thing."

Rory sent him a look of death. "Laugh all you want, but at least I'm doing something."

"I don't have plans yet but I'll figure something out."

Rory took in his casual demeanor, wondering what he would do if he didn't find anything to do. She couldn't see him as the type of guy capable of staying at home, watching a movie or reading a book on a Friday night. He would probably be forced to call some girl to go out on a date, just to say he did something. It was unfortunate to have to lead a life that way.

Before she realized it, her mouth opened and she heard herself ask, "Do you want to come tomorrow?"

His shocked expression mirrored her reaction to what she had just said. When did she decide to invite him? It didn't even go through her thought process. But she couldn't take it back. It was out there now. She was holding her breath, wondering what he would say.

He looked up at the ceiling, then over her head. When he lifted his arm and waved a hand over her head, she inquired in bewilderment, "What are you doing?"

"I didn't see it."

"See what?"

"The anvil falling on your head."

She rolled her eyes. "A simple no would have sufficed."

"I don't want my Friday night spent dressed as a peasant."

"No one is dressing as a peasant. Only the servers and entertainers are."

"And I'm not eating mutton or munching on a turkey leg with my hands."

"Sookie is making period food but we're eating it with utensils. Sookie is an incredible chef. Anything she makes is awesome, trust me."

He paused forever. "You're really inviting me to this?"

She took a moment to answer. It really would be rude to take it back now. Besides, it might do him good. "Yes," she answered resolutely." It'll be fun. If for nothing else, you should come just to make fun of the people in costume."

A slow smile developed on his lips. "Do I get to share a room with you?" he asked devilishly.

She chose to ignore his implication. "I have to ask my mother if we have enough room for you to stay, but you can definitely come for dinner."

There was another pause as he stared at her. "Okay. I've never been to a Bracebridge dinner, but I'll try anything once."

"I'll give you the directions to the inn tomorrow. It's not that hard after you get off the highway."

Tristan nodded his understanding as he reached over and grabbed a chocolate cupcake from her tray. Before she was able to protest, he shoved half of it in his mouth. "Thanks. That was the only part of the meal I was looking forward to."

He swallowed. "I'm hungry."

She suddenly noticed the lack of tray in front of him. "Are you on a hunger strike?"

"I'm not that hungry."

"Tell that to my cupcake."

The bell rang, which signaled Tristan to shove the rest of the cupcake in his mouth. His mouth full, he gave her a small salute as a goodbye and left. Rory gathered up her papers, her half eaten tray of food and her back pack. She thought about the next night, an evening with Tristan while people around them dressed in costumes and spoke Old English. She smiled wistfully. This was either going to be a calm, wholesome night for Tristan or a potential grounding for Rory.

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

The final bell rang that afternoon and Rory felt relieved. She hadn't been able to do much with the room arrangements at lunch and the forty five minute bus ride would give her the time she needed to hopefully get it done. Thankfully, her professors were being merciful with the homework due to the winter break and Rory had already finished the initial assignment for the Franklin. She could fully dedicate herself to helping her mother and Sookie finish the preparations for the dinner.

Rory headed to her locker to pick up a couple of books she needed for that night's light homework. She noticed at the end of the hall, Tristan leaned against his locker, watching her. She tilted her head in curiosity. Why was he watching her? Was he waiting for her to go to her locker to talk to her? But he didn't approach her. He only folded his arms in front of his chest, his lips curled into a mischievous smile. Her stomach fluttered. What was he doing?

She decided to get her things and get out of there. She wasn't sure what was going on and she was afraid to find out.

When she opened the steel door of her locker, she was surprised to see a white box on the shelf inside. She turned to Tristan, seeing his smile grow wider. It was obvious he had something to do with this. She dropped her yellow backpack inside her locker and grabbed the box with both hands. It was light, and with closer inspection, she realized it was a bakery box. Under the lid, she found half a dozen chocolate cup cakes, each iced with white icing and topped with dark chocolate shavings. She slowly realized he was paying her back for the cup cake at lunch. To say she was shocked was an understatement.

On the inside lid, a taped piece of paper conveyed the message, "Devils food for a Mary."

She chuckled, letting the gesture sink in. When was he able to do this? Had he risked suspension again by leaving school to get her the treats? How did he get them in her locker? What motivated him to go to those lengths just to surprise her? She couldn't help but think the whole thing was incredibly cute and sweet. It wasn't something she thought Tristan wasn't capable of doing.

Emily Post compelled her to thank Tristan for the cup cakes. But when she lifted her head to look at him once more, he was gone.


	7. Chapter 6: Dilemma for Juliet

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_Wow, I was overwhelmed by the amount of people who reviewed the last chapter and the barrage of people who put this on their story alert. I mustn't be the only one that's a sucker for cupcakes. Thanks for all the kind words and the support. It's what fuels this story on. Enjoy_

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

"Don't tell Sookie, but I think these are the best cupcakes I've ever had," Lorelai gushed as she sucked her fingers clean of butter cream icing.

Rory mumbled in agreement, savoring the rich chocolate taste on her tongue as she leaned back against the armchair. Rory had shown up at the house, surprised to see her mother already home from work. The older Gilmore sat on the couch in front of her laptop, trying to sift through the reservations coming in at every moment. Rory barely announced she had cupcakes and her mother had dropped everything, dashing to the refrigerator to get herself a glass of milk. Between the two of them, they devoured the cupcakes in seven minutes, officially spoiling their dinner.

"Where did you get these?" Lorelai asked as she sat back in the couch.

"Tristan gave them to me."

Lorelai chortled. "I'm sorry, sweets. I must be in some kind of chocolate induced, euphoric bubble because I could have sworn you said Tristan gave these to you."

"I did."

"The Prince of Darkness's spawn gave you devil's food cupcakes? We've just been condemned to hell."

"I thought it was sweet," Rory defended softly.

"Why would he give you cupcakes?"

"He stole mine at lunch."

"You had six cupcakes at lunch?"

Rory shook her head. "One."

"And he repays you with six? I'd like to lend him a hundred bucks."

Rory watched her mom laying across the couch in cocoa ecstasy and decided that was the best time to tell her about the invitation. "I asked Tristan to come to the Bracebridge dinner."

Lorelai bolted upright. "Now I definitely didn't hear that."

"Mom, he needs this. He doesn't have any friends right now and his parents are leaving for Martinique soon, maybe even this weekend. He needs interaction."

"What he needs is a correctional facility."

"Please Mom?" Rory implored.

Lorelai hesitated at the pleading face of her daughter. "I thought you were going to talk to him about the kiss. When did you become his Big Sister?"

"I haven't found the right time to talk about the kiss with him. Maybe I can do it tomorrow night."

Lorelai tilted her head pensively before shaking her head. "I don't like this, Rory."

"I already invited him. It would be rude to uninvite him."

Lorelai grunted. "You better pray he doesn't pull a prank that results in the Inn burning to the ground. I'll disown you as my daughter."

Rory smiled triumphantly. "Thanks, Mom. Do you think we can squeeze him in at the Inn?"

Lorelai looked over her list. "There is only one person that hasn't confirmed."

Rory couldn't believe her luck. "Really? Who?"

"Dean."

Her face fell. "Dean? He wasn't on my list. You invited Dean?"

"We like Dean, remember? This was about inviting people we liked. I didn't put him on your list because I didn't want you to get your hopes up."

"And he didn't confirm?"

Her mother shook her head.

Rory sat back on the armchair. "I didn't think about what would happen if Dean came. What if he does? He'll jump on Tristan the moment he sees him."

"At this point I don't think you have to worry about it. It doesn't look like he's coming."

Rory contemplated that and should have been satisfied with her mother's logic. But after a moment of trying to accept it, she rejected it. "No. I need to know for sure."

She picked up the receiver from the coffee table and dialed six, Dean's speed dial number. On the second ring, a sweet young voice answered. "Hello?"

Rory recognized the voice of Dean's little sister instantly. "Hi, Clara. It's Rory. Can I speak to Dean?"

"Hi, Rory. Umm…Dean isn't here."

"He isn't? I thought he didn't start at the market on Thursdays until five."

"Umm…I don't know."

She started to get suspicious. Clara sounded uncomfortable. "Is he sitting next to you?"

Clara took a moment before answering. "Yea."

"Can you ask him if he's coming to dinner tomorrow night?"

"Hold on." She heard Clara repeat her question, causing Dean to yell at his little sister. A second later, Dean was on the phone. "What is it, Rory?"

"I just need to ask you two questions."

"Fine. Make it quick."

"Are you coming to the Bracebridge dinner tomorrow night?"

"No."

"Are you 100 percent sure you're not coming?"

"Yes. I'm definitely not coming."

She was relieved, but she was also disappointed he would miss such an exciting night because of her. It was the first time she had spoken to him in two weeks and she couldn't resist trying to talk to him. "How are you?"

"Fine," he said curtly. "You?"

"I'm okay."

There was an awkward pause. "I let you have three questions. Now I have to go," Dean announced.

"Oh," Rory uttered, disappointed the conversation was ending so soon. She should have expected this, but she hoped he would give a little. "Okay, bye."

"Bye."

Rory turned off the receiver, reviewing the brief conversation. At least he talked to her. He asked how she was, if only after she asked him. That had to be counted as progress, right?

"I'm assuming we have space for Tristan," Lorelai took her daughter out of her reverie.

Rory nodded. "He's 100 percent sure."

"Well, look at the bright side," her mother started as she started typing on the laptop. "At least we'll avoid a trip to the morgue to identify the bodies."

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

Friday afternoon, Rory jogged to the press room, her assignment in her hand. She had to drop the article off as soon as possible so she could catch the bus and get to the inn. She had to fit in a shower, change and primp before the guests started arriving. If she missed the first bus, the second wouldn't come for another forty minutes and she would be pressed for time.

Paris sat at the long table, shuffling through papers. Rory rushed to the editor-in-chief and placed the paper in front of Paris, turning around in her intention of bolting out of there. Before she got to the door, Paris's voice stopped her. "Where are you going?"

Rory turned, meeting Paris's dark eyes. "I have to go home."

Her eyebrow cocked. "You have a hot date tonight? Maybe with Tristan?"

"Paris, I'm not dating Tristan. It's none of your business, but I'm helping my mother with a project."

"I needed you here to help me with the assignments."

"I can't Paris. My mother will kill me if I don't help her."

"Fine. Maybe I can bring some things over tonight. Things you can read over in the next few days. Then we can meet sometime next week and see what needed tweaking."

Rory was amazed at Paris's somewhat neutral demeanor. "Okay. That will be no problem. Just leave the papers on my front porch. I'll pick it up tomorrow."

Paris scowled. "You're not going to be home for the drop off?"

"No, I'm working at the Inn tonight."

Paris regarded Rory thoughtfully for a moment. "Then I'll bring it to the Inn. It'll be much safer."

Rory's stomach dropped. Paris couldn't come to the Inn. She would see Tristan there and this neutral attitude would soon dissolve into an all out persecution of Rory's sanity at Chilton. She couldn't deal with that. She also knew that she hadn't seen Paris in her full wrath, nor did she ever want to see it.

"Uh, Paris, I don't think that's necessary. The Inn is hard to get to and I wouldn't want you to get lost."

"I'm not leaving the Franklin materials on your porch. Anything can happen to it, ranging from the wind blowing it away to a bear ripping it to shreds."

"I don't think there are many bears in Stars Hollow."

"What's the name of this Inn?"

"Paris, really, it isn't necessary. You could just drop it off tomorrow or I can pick it up. There is no need to come to the Inn."

"If you're concerned about my seeing you at your place of blue collared employment, get over it, Alice. I could care less. Now give me the name."

Rory considered withholding the information, but realized she didn't need Paris becoming suspicious of Rory more than she already was. Rory sighed in resignation. "The Independence Inn."

Paris wrote it down on a Post It. "I'll see you at seven p. m."

Rory turned around. "I can't wait," she mumbled under her breath as she left the room.


	8. Chapter 7: Sleigh Ride

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_I'm sorry this took longer that usual to post, but I've been debating if I should post this chapter as is or split it. In the end, keeping it as is prevailed. It's the longest chapter yet, so pull up a seat and enjoy._

_**xoxoxoxoxo**_

In the Independence Inn, excitement was mounting. Happiness came through the door, handing bags and coats to the doormen, greeting Lorelai and Rory with genuine smiles and receiving their room keys with appreciation. Rory tried to feed off the happiness, trying to smile back as best as she could, but she was too wound up. She couldn't help but imagine Paris and Tristan coming in at the same moment, Paris with a deadly stare while Tristan smiled in proud triumph, effectively ruining her life once again.

She tried easing her fears. She kept telling herself if Tristan came in on time, she could convince him to stay out of sight just long enough for Paris to come and go without incident. But the closer seven o'clock came the more she became concerned. Tristan hadn't shown up, even though she had told him check in was at six-thirty, and she started to become more convinced he would show up when Paris dropped off the Franklin materials.

Rory was so distracted, Lorelai took notice. "Okay, Rory, I need you to be a little more excited and less nervous. People are starting to call you Nelly."

"He's not here," she whispered harshly.

"Who?"

"Tristan. I told him check in was at six thirty. It's six fifty-five and he's not here."

Lorelai placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Honey, calm down."

"He's not here yet and Paris will be here in five minutes, probably less. If he comes in when she does, she'll see him and hate me for good."

"And that is different than things now in what way?"

"Mom, Paris doesn't hate me yet, but if she thinks I invited Tristan because I like him, and she will definitely think that, she will never let it go."

"Wait. Why is Paris coming here?"

"She didn't want to leave the Franklin materials on our porch. She insisted on bringing it here."

"Who is to say they'll be here at the same time?"

"Because the fates hate me and find amusement in my misery."

"Okay. When Paris comes in, I'll go outside and keep a lookout for Tristan. If he comes, I'll sneak him in the back."

"But what if they come at the same time?"

"Then we'll get the ring set up and you can go three rounds with Paris."

"Mom!"

At exactly seven, Paris came through the Inn door, carrying folders and notebooks precariously in her arms. Rory's heart leaped into her throat. She felt like the ticker of a bomb had started and now it was a race against time to avoid the explosion. Rory helped Paris take the materials to the counter, half listening to her breakdown of the content of Madeline's paper while watching the door, praying for mercy from a higher being. She watched as her mother grabbed her coat and slipped out, giving a little ok sign before leaving.

"Are you listening?" Paris asked impatiently.

Rory glanced back at Paris. "Umm, yea. I'll get started on it tomorrow."

"What about tonight?"

"I'm busy tonight."

"Doing what?"

"Well…" Rory made an encompassing flip of the hand. "This."

"Oh." Paris looked around the lobby. "What is this?"

"It's kind of a big dinner party."

"Oh, I'll get out of your way. Call if you need to talk things through."

Rory felt a pang of regret. She wished she could invite Paris to the dinner. She was sure Paris would have welcomed the distraction and social interaction. But if Tristan was there, it would raise many questions in Paris's mind and Rory didn't need the added scrutiny.

Paris turned around. Rory was almost home free but she still worried Paris would meet up with Tristan and her mother outside. She needed to be out there if that happened. "I'll walk you."

On the doorstep, Rory looked out into the darkness, watching the valets taking care of the cars coming in. There was no Lorelai or Tristan in sight. "Are you okay?" Paris asked in a tone that seemed concerned.

"Yes, why?"

"You're acting strange, distracted, worried."

"Oh, it's just this dinner party. I just hope everything goes well."

Paris continued looking at Rory, and Rory tried to decipher what the other girl was thinking with no luck. "Call me when you're done," Paris said as she walked down the steps.

Rory breathed a sigh of relief. She missed that bullet. Now she just wondered where Tristan was.

As soon as Paris was in her car, Lorelai came back in. "Is your juvenile delinquent friend planning on showing?"

"I told him the time of check in. Maybe he's running late."

"I can't wait for him. Everyone else is here and I have a surprise for everyone before dinner."

Rory gave the door one last look before sighing. "Go ahead."

Lorelai called everyone's attention as Rory slipped behind the registration counter. She couldn't believe it. How could Tristan be this late? Or was he coming at all? Her heart sank. He wasn't coming. He had decided it wasn't his scene and at that moment he was in his empty mansion making out with the flavor of the month.

She didn't know why she cared other than she had taken a chance in inviting him. Sure, she had hoped she would have been able to get a private moment with him to talk about the kiss. The more she had thought about it, the more she had realized that talking to him about it while he was there would be perfect. She planned on talking to him about it after dinner, taking him into the conference room so they could be alone. She hoped it would be a calm conversation, and afterwards, she hoped they'd be able to keep this fragile friendship going forward, picking up where they left off after Madeline's party. Maybe this time he wouldn't ruin it by trying to take her on a date.

But he wasn't coming to the Inn. She convinced herself of it.

She watched the crowd react to her mother's surprise: horse drawn sleigh rides. Even that couldn't bring up her spirits. She loved the idea of sleigh rides, but her anger impeded her appreciation of it. Everyone started to file out of the Inn, excitingly talking about the rides. Rory just observed them leave, wondering how she could get away with murdering him.

Michel turned to her, the usually surly man turning a concerned eye. "You not going for a ride?" He asked in his thick French accent.

Rory shook her head. "You can go ahead. I'll watch the desk until you come back."

Michel opened his mouth as if to say something, but must have thought better of it and gave her a small smile instead. "Thank you."

Rory took the Franklin materials off the top counter of the registration desk. She had a couple of minutes. She could start on the materials, at least looking them over. She was stumbling through Madeline's article when she felt a chill that could only be the front door. She looked up to see Tristan closing the door behind him. One of the doormen offered to take his black pea coat while the other took his hunter green duffle bag. His things taken care of, he looked around the lobby and locked his azure eyes on her. She couldn't help but notice how his navy blue sweater made his eyes darker, or the casual way his khaki pants slightly bunched at the bottom of his long legs. He looked effortlessly laidback, which she thought impossible considering his wealth.

He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized as he came toward her. "I got lost."

"That's okay," she reassured, finding herself returning his smile without thinking.

He reached the counter. "There's no one here."

"My mother organized sleigh rides. If you hurry, you might be able to get one."

He laid his forearms on the counter and leaned toward her. "Why aren't you out there?"

"Someone had to man the desk."

"Or wait for a certain young, charming, devastatingly handsome guy."

"That, too. But I wonder when he'll show up."

He grinned and it made her heart flutter. When did that start? Her heart didn't flutter when it came to Tristan. It just didn't.

She looked for a distraction. Her eyes swept the desk, spotting the hostess folder she had been using to keep track of everyone that came in. She opened it and checked his name off with her pen. "You have room 22," she advised as she handed him the key.

"Thanks," he said as he pocketed the key. He looked around again. "How long before we can go for that sleigh ride?"

"I told you they're doing it right now. Just head for the right side of the Inn. You can take one from there."

"That's not what I asked."

"I'm not going on a sleigh ride with you, Tristan."

"Reason?"

"Dean and I just broke up. Stars Hollow is a twenty-four hour rumor mill. I don't need something as mundane as a sleigh ride turned into an exaggerated story."

"I thought I was your guest."

"You are."

"You're going to let your guest be uncomfortable by letting him take a sleigh ride by himself, just because you're afraid of a few stories?"

Before she could answer, the Inn door opened and in came Lorelai, rosy cheeked and smiling. Behind her walked a sourpuss Luke, taking off his coat forcefully. Lorelai approached the teenagers. "Hey, you showed."

"Yes. Sorry I was late but I had trouble finding the place."

Lorelai shrugged. "No big deal. We're glad you were able to join us." She offered her hand to him. "Lorelai Gilmore."

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Gilmore."

"By the way," she continued as she stepped closer to the blond, her voice a whisper. "You have to give me the name of that bakery where you got those cupcakes. I've been in chocolate withdrawal since yesterday."

Tristan chuckled. "Sure, I'll write the address down before I leave. Why are you whispering?"

"Because if Sookie, our chef, hears my mother prefers another person's cupcakes over hers, it's off with my mom's head."

"And I particularly like my head," Lorelai added. "It fits my neck perfectly."

"I don't know, Mom. I think you could use a new one. I think this one has a couple glitches."

"Don't you have a sleigh ride to go on?"

Tristan smiled on the return to the topic. "Ms. Gilmore, how many people do these sleighs hold?"

"Two, why?"

"Two, you say?" He smiled at Rory. "Well, I didn't have anyone to ride with, but now that I know it's two to a sleigh, I can share a ride with Rory."

She could kill him. "Tristan-"

He continued before she could protest. "Don't you think that's a great idea, Ms. Gilmore?"

Lorelai switched her glances from Tristan to Rory. Rory pleaded with her eyes for Lorelai to get her out of it, but she could tell her mother was stuck. "I don't see the harm in it," Lorelai said, directing her words more toward Rory than to answering Tristan's question. "It might give you a chance to talk."

Rory rolled her eyes. Just another prime example of how things never went according to plan.

Rory made her way around the counter. One word to the doormen and they brought in their coats. Tristan kept grinning triumphantly, making Rory want to slap him.

Once outside, Rory led Tristan to the sleighs. No one was left to give rides to, which Rory was thankful for. The less people saw Rory with Tristan, the better.

Tristan helped her into the sleigh by offering a steady hand to hold while she climbed into the vehicle. She tried not to notice how warm and strong his hand was, or how his long fingers wrapped around her hand perfectly. But she couldn't ignore the wave of heat that entered her body the moment they touched, especially out there in the cold December night.

Rory settled into the seat, covering her legs with the blanket as Tristan sat next to her. She covered his legs with the rest of the blanket. "Thanks," he said.

She nodded, trying to avoid eye contact after that heat producing hand contact. What was wrong with her? This was Tristan. She wasn't supposed to feel nervous around him.

The sleigh started out. "I guess I'm in your mother's good graces," he commented.

She smiled as she nodded. "She couldn't stop talking about those cupcakes. She wanted to go out to Hartford and visit every single bakery until she found them."

"I'll keep that in mind in case I ever cross her."

There was a lull after that. Rory scrambled for something to say. "Did you figure out what you're going to do now that school's out?"

He shook his head. "Any ideas?"

"No. It looks like I'll be working on the Franklin for most of break. Paris just doesn't know when to quit."

He nodded, "Yea, she's never satisfied."

"My mom and I are planning on spending the rest of the time watching movies. I wanted to rent the Godfather 3 on DVD but our shop doesn't have it. Francis Ford Coppola actually defends casting Sofia in the special features."

"Yea, I saw that. Still didn't convince me. I have it. I can let you borrow it."

"Really? You just saved by break."

They came up to the town square where all the snowmen faced them, as if watching their ride. Tristan's eyebrows furrowed. "This town must have a thing for snowmen."

"It was a competition. First prize gets a set of new quarters."

He looked at her, his face incredulous. "You're kidding."

Rory shook her head. "But mostly everyone did it for the glory."

He smiled slightly. He gazed back to the display. "Hmm, the one with the wig is interesting."

"That's ours," she admitted, excited that he noticed.

"I'm not surprised."

"Everyone thinks the one on the end will win."

Tristan considered it for a moment before shaking his head. "It's intricate but no personality whatsoever."

"I agree."

"So," Tristan started, placing his arm on the back of the sleigh seat, leaning slightly toward her. "What was your mom referring to when she said the ride would give us a chance to talk?"

She had hoped he had forgotten that. She still thought her original plan of discussing it was the best. But she might as well get it over with. "Tristan. I need to talk to you about something, but I need you to be a 100 percent serious during the whole thing."

He groaned. "Not another 'serious talk'"

"What?"

"Every time we have a 'talk', you give me a lecture."

"I do not!"

"Really? Let's review. First time we 'talked', I was told I needed to date someone ambitious and then I was lassoed into dating Paris. Second time around, you told me I wasn't acting like myself and needed to stop hanging out with Bowman and Duncan."

"Okay, but that last one was good advice. Look where they are now."

"That's not the point, Rory. You barely know me, but for some reason, you have this need to tell me what I'm doing wrong with my life. We aren't even friends for God's sake."

Rory looked down at her hands, trying not to feel hurt. "Oh."

Tristan sat back against the seat. The driver called back, "Heading back to the Inn."

They were quiet for a few moments before Tristan uttered, "I can't be friends with someone who hates me, Rory. That would just be asking for trouble."

She looked up at him, taking in the somberness of his face. No matter what was said among them in the past, there had always been this barrier, something that would always stop them from getting close, becoming friends. She never felt truly comfortable talking to him about something deep, other than that night at Madeline's party. Those had been different circumstances and since then she hadn't felt that comfortable again. He was obviously capable of being serious, but usually he preferred not to and it irritated her. Now, his face void of mischief, she knew they had reached another one of those moments, and she had to act upon it. She could take the chance on him this time and at least tell him the truth.

"I don't hate you, Tristan. I never did. You just irritate me sometimes to the point of seeing red."

"Yea, well, I do that to a lot of people."

"But I do want to be your friend."

"Wouldn't that make Dean angry?"

Rory considered it a moment. If Dean saw her hanging out with Tristan around Stars Hollow, he would probably never take her back. But at this point, there was no indication he would take her back, period. She thought of the box in her closet, the things she had lovingly given to Dean. He had to be set they weren't getting back together to give those back. If that was how he felt, then she shouldn't have to worry about making him angry.

"He and I broke up. It's over and he doesn't have any say over my friends."

He studied her face. "Until he shows up at Chilton and sees you with me. Then you'll tell him you hate me."

"I promise that won't ever happen. If Dean ever shows up at Chilton and sees me with you, I'll be honest. I'll tell him we're friends."

The sleigh stopped in front of the Inn. Tristan stepped down to the ground and turned around, offering her his hand. She took it and started to step down but tripped on the edge of the sleigh. Her body tilted forward and she was sure she'd hit the ground before his steadying arm came around her waist, pulling her close to him. It took her a second to realize she wasn't going to fall. It took her less than that to notice she was pressed against him. She registered his strong chest against her, the sporty scent of his cologne and the unyielding support of his arm. She looked up and found him staring down at her, his blue eyes shimmering in the moonlight. God, he was beautiful. What was she was getting herself into? She couldn't be his friend. That would be torture. What was she thinking?

Tristan lowered her head toward her and for a breathless moment she thought he was going to kiss her. She knew she shouldn't let him, but didn't have the strength to stop him. She didn't want to. She knew what it was to be kissed by Tristan Dugrey and God help her, she wanted that feeling again.

He came inches away, and then smiled that incredibly cocky, but sexy smile. "Okay, I'll be your friend. But you will regret it."

He released her and walked back to the inn, leaving her staring after him. She let his statement process in the confused mind of hers. "I think I already have," she confessed into the cold night air.


	9. Chapter 8: Awake, dear Romeo

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_Nothing much to say this time around. Want to thank GGGirl for correcting my 'void' problem (in a later chapter, I noticed I was using cease instead of seize and I wouldn't have paid that much attention if not for my sudden awareness in my grammar). As always, I thank everyone who takes the time to read and review this. I can't explain how attached I am to this story and to know 103 people have put this on their alert just makes everything so much sweeter. I hope you keep enjoying it._

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

Rory laid back on her bed, watching her mother sitting in front of the vanity table, brushing out her hair. "Everything went very well, don't you think?" Rory asked Lorelai.

Lorelai nodded as she put her hair up in a ponytail. "I just hope my parents will be okay after this. Did you see my mother's face when your grandfather dropped the bomb about retirement? I thought she would turn into the female Hulk."

Rory replayed the awkward scene in her head. The dinner had ended and everyone had split into little talk groups at the table. Her grandfather had detailed a story about one of her grandparents' trips to Prague and suddenly announced he had retired from his job. There had been no warning about it, other than he had been unhappy about his office lately. They were all taken by surprise, especially her grandmother. Just a couple minutes ago, Emily had entered Lorelai and Rory's room, stating she couldn't stay in the same room as her husband and needed another room. Since there weren't anymore rooms, Emily would stay with them, Lorelai and Rory sharing a full bed while Emily slept in the other. But then Emily said she would go for a walk and left, and now Lorelai was worried, sitting at the vanity table after she had been settled in the bed there were going to share.

"Hey," Lorelai commenced. "Did you talk to Tristan?"

"Yea, but not about what I was supposed to."

"Rory!"

"I know, but I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't bother."

"What? Why?"

"When we were in the sleigh, we talked and decided we would be friends. It's taken us a year to do that. If I talk to him about the kiss, it might jeopardize our friendship."

Lorelai turned to Rory. "You're friends with Tristan now?"

Rory nodded. "It should be interesting. He has been getting on my nerves since day one. I hope this will make him nicer to me."

"Don't get me wrong, I think it's great you and Tristan are becoming friends. But what about Dean? Weren't you going to talk to Tristan about the kiss so you can figure out why you reacted the way you did and explain it to Dean?"

"Do you really think talking to Tristan about the kiss will help me figure it out? He wouldn't know why I kissed him back. If anything, he would twist it and say I kissed him back because I have a thing for him. Plus, it would become awkward between us. Besides, Dean isn't even talking to me. What if I talk to Tristan, actually do figure it out and Dean still refuses to listen? Then I ruin my friendship with Tristan for nothing."

"Honey, if he's truly your friend, you should be able to talk to him about this."

Rory looked down at her hands, knowing her mother had a point. "I guess you're right, but it's so hard. I tried to bring it up tonight, but somehow we ended up talking about being friends. Then I thought about taking him to the conference room and talking about it, but it seemed all wrong. Dean isn't going to talk to me anytime soon, anyway. I figure, what's the rush?"

Lorelai contemplated her daughter for a moment. "So you're giving up on your relationship with Dean."

Rory hesitated. Was she really giving up on Dean? Was she prepared to let go of him and move on? Even though she wanted to think she was, her heart wouldn't let her. There was still a little spark of hope he would eventually forgive her. But if it had taken them a couple of months to get back together after her hesitance to say the L word, how long would it take to get back together after she kissed another guy?

"Judging from our last break up, I think it's safe to say it will take him several months to get over the fact I kissed Tristan. In the meantime, I have to keep living my life. I hope eventually Dean will come around, but I'm not sitting by the phone until he does."

"Being Tristan's friend isn't going to help things. Dean isn't going to think it's purely platonic."

"Mom, he's not my boyfriend anymore. He has made that very clear. I can't base my friends off of my ex-boyfriend."

"Sweetie, I-"

"Being Tristan's friend will be a good thing for both of us. Maybe I can keep him from getting into trouble and save myself a couple of headaches in the process. Not that I ever cared, but it could also score me a couple of popularity points being friends with the King of Chilton." Rory paused for a moment, thinking of Tristan in terms of that night. "Did you see him tonight? Did you see how relaxed he looked?"

Rory's mind flashed to the dinner. Her mother had sat Tristan across from Jess, a decision Rory had been wary about since the two boys were prone to trouble. But she watched them exchange words without incident and wondered what they were talking about. Then Jackson came out as the squire Bracebridge with Rune as his page and entertained everyone with their banter. Tristan had laughed a couple times, which had awed her since she had never seen him genuinely laugh before. He ate everything placed in front of him and seemed to have enjoyed it all. He didn't even seem fazed when an inebriated Bootsy started to belt out lyrics of Hotel California while drumming spoons on his head. It was as if he was a completely different person, and she thought she knew why.

"Here he doesn't have to be cocky rich boy. He can just be himself."

"Himself? You think Tristan isn't the cocky rich boy he's been playing all this time?"

Rory shook her head. "There's something there, Mom. Underneath his cool, arrogant exterior is something more. I saw it tonight. I'm going to find out exactly what it is."

Rory shifted in the bed so she was lying on her back, closing her sleepy eyes. She didn't know when she decided to take on the mission of figuring Tristan out, but she knew it would help her understand him better and maybe be a better friend to him. She'd have to be creative to accomplish it. She loved a challenge.

Sleep invaded her mind and spread throughout her body. She faintly registered her mother's weight settling on the bed next to her and her mother's lips brushing against her forehead. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard her mother's soft chuckle, followed by her voice. "What you'll find is why you kissed him back, and you're not going to like it."

_**xoxoxoxoxo**_

The next morning, Rory stood beside Lorelai while a parade of exiting guests passed by them, all of them showing their appreciation with hugs, kisses and kind words. Rory had her guest list again, crossing off the guests as they checked out of the inn and marched out of the door. At twenty minutes until eleven, Rory looked over the list and noticed everyone had checked out except for one person: Tristan.

Lorelai came back to Rory after seeing Luke and Jess off. "Ready to head home?"

"Not quite. Tristan hasn't checked out."

"Hmm, I guess I hadn't noticed, but you're right."

"Do you think he forgot?"

"Nah. I think he's still sleeping."

"It's almost eleven," Rory pointed out, incredulous to the suggestion someone could still be sleeping this late.

"Take it from a former silver spooner. The sleep of the dead has nothing over the sleep of a trust fund baby."

"But he gets to Chilton every morning. How do you explain that?"

"His nanny probably wakes him up."

This was even harder to believe. "He's seventeen years old. He can't possibly still have a nanny."

"Honey, in the opulent circle, you have a nanny until you get married. Then they go from being your nanny to your children's nanny."

"Impossible."

Lorelai pointed her pinky finger to her daughter. "Ten bucks says I'm right about him having a nanny."

Rory hooked her pinky to her mother's. "You're on."

Lorelai nodded. "Go wake him up."

"Me? Why me?"

"He's your guest."

Rory rolled her eyes. "First the sleigh ride, now this. Remind me never to invite him to anything ever again."

She climbed up the stairs to the second floor, heading down the hallway to room twenty-two. She knocked on the door, but there was no answer. She knocked again, still no response. She slapped the door a couple of times. "Tristan!" she yelled, certain it would get the reaction she wanted. But the reaction was silence. She wondered if he was even in the room. She looked around, making sure the hall was empty, before she tried the doorknob. It gave and she peeked inside. The bed was a jumble of pillows and sheets, but she spotted some flesh she assumed was an arm.

"Tristan?" She called, approaching the bed cautiously. When he didn't stir, she became genuinely concerned. What if he was sick, or even worse? What if he suffered a premature heart attack and died? Rory calmed her racing thoughts. He was fine. He had to be.

She got to his side. The flesh was definitely his arm, pinning a pillow over Tristan's head. Underneath the cover, his body rose and fell with his breath. How could he have slept through her pounding on the door? Maybe her mother was right about the sleep of the rich.

Rory nudged his bare shoulder. "Tristan," she called loudly. He was as still as a statue. How could he not respond to that? She shook his shoulder roughly. "Tristan!"

She saw the arm pinning down the pillow slash the air swiftly and the next thing Rory knew, she was off her feet. She was hoisted through the air by her waist and set on the opposite side of the bed. Dazed and confused, she stared at the wall she was suddenly facing. Tristan's arm stayed around her waist, and he made no attempt to retract it.

After recovering from the initial shock, she blurted the first thing she thought of. "What the hell…"

He shushed her. "Just close your eyes and fall asleep."

She actually thought about it a moment before she tried to sit up. Tristan's firm hold on her waist stopped her. She grunted in exasperation. "Do you mind?" she asked as she tried to push his arm off her.

"Actually, I do. What are you doing, waking me up at this ungodly hour?"

"It's quarter to eleven."

"Really?" He let go of her waist and she sat up, looking at him lying next to her. His eyes still closed, his blond hair disheveled excessively, his bare, lean chest in plain sight, her heart started to pound. This was the closest she had ever been to a half naked guy and she accounted that to her sudden acceleration of heartbeat.

Her eyes lingered on the defined solidity of Tristan's chest before snapping out of it. "Yes. Check out is at eleven and although I'd love to stay here and wait for you to get your lazy butt up, I'd also like to go home."

Tristan groaned as he turned onto his back. "Just give me ten minutes." He jackknifed into a sitting position and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Rory just stared at his back, admiring the wide expanse of it, the broadness of his shoulders. Did all boys look this good? What did Dean look like without a shirt on? Somehow she knew it wasn't nearly as good as Tristan's lean physique.

"Are you enjoying the view?"

Rory raised her eyes and saw him looking at her over his shoulder, his lips curled into an amused smile. Her face flushed in instant heat. She quickly averted her eyes. "What view?"

He chuckled. "Okay, Pinocchio. I don't want to disturb you, but I'm naked under this sheet. So unless you want to see the full monty, I suggest you leave so I can get going."

"Oh my God," she groaned. She didn't think it was possible but she felt even more heat on her face. She quickly left the room and headed for the stairs, embarrassed beyond belief. The reality of the whole situation entered her mind. She had been in a room by herself with a naked boy, and not just any boy. She had been in an isolated room with a naked Tristan. Flashes of exposed flesh entered her mind, making her heart hitch. She shouldn't have gone in there. She should have kept knocking on the door, yelling his name, even getting her mother if necessary. But she shouldn't have gone in there.

She took a calming breath before heading down the stairs. She hoped the color had drained from her face. She really didn't need her mother trying to find out why she was blushing.

She got to the lobby and found her mother behind the counter, looking over the registration book. She gazed at her daughter and smiled. "What's the verdict?"

She tried to look as non-chalant as possible. "He was still sleeping."

"Ah," she started as she stared off into space. "I remember those days. I could sleep through an earthquake. It would take my mom a half hour to wake me up. How many times did you have to knock before he came to?"

Rory averted her eyes, not wanting to convey her uneasiness as she lied. "Oh, about six."

"Yea, nothing like the sleep of the rich."

Lorelai and Rory had placed their bags behind the counter, anticipating leaving as soon as the last guest checked out. She went behind the counter and took out the Franklin materials from her bag, continuing where she had left off the night before. She tried to block out the image of Tristan's naked torso and back from her mind while reading, but it was burned into her brain and refused to be pushed back or buried. She tried making her notes as best as she could through the image.

One minute to eleven, Tristan came down the stairs in jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt, his hair still slick from the shower. When he glanced at her, she lowered her eyes, embarrassed by her own embarrassment. Why was she so goofy? All she saw was his chest. It wasn't a big deal.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Gilmore," he apologized to her mother. "I hadn't realized it had gotten this late."

"Oh, it's quite alright. I know you must be used to having your nanny wake you up."

"My nanny?" Tristan repeated, perplexed. "No, my nanny hasn't woken me up in years."

Rory smiled triumphantly at her mother. She was about to gloat when he spoke again. "My nanny doesn't even come to the house until after school."

Lorelai laughed while Rory groaned. She dug into her pocket and fished out a ten dollar bill, swiftly placing it in her mother's extended hand. "Thief," she mumbled under her breath.

Tristan watched the exchange with a frown but didn't comment. "So, I'm off. Thank you very much, Ms. Gilmore. It was very entertaining."

"I'm glad you were able to come. Drive safe."

Tristan gave Rory a fleeting glance before heading to the door. She watched his retreating back, wondering if she would see him again during the break. There was nothing that linked them outside of school. Nothing, except…

"When can I come over to get the Godfather 3 DVD?" She asked as he opened the door.

He stopped and shrugged. "Whenever."

"Monday, maybe?"

He shrugged again. "Whatever."

"Okay, see you then."

He left and when she looked at Lorelai, she was surprised to see her mother staring thoughtfully at her. "What?"

Lorelai only smiled. "Let's go home."


	10. Chapter 9: Visiting Romeo

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_Don't have much time to talk tonight. Just wanted to post this before I got to bed. Thanks for all your comments and for supporting this story. Enjoy!_

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

Rory stood in front of the daunting Dugrey estate, taking in the different shades of grey of the stone wall and the large picture windows. When she made the drive up there, she had been taken away by the expanse of the mansion from the road. From far, she could tell the mansion was twice the size of her grandparents and looked twice as imposing. The thought of living there, in a place that large was unfathomable. Maybe Rory was right in imagining Tristan aimlessly wandering down the silent halls of his home. She could only imagine the width of the halls in this mansion.

Rory broke from her reverie. What was she going to do, stand there in awe all day? She rang the door bell. The next thing she knew, she heard Tristan's voice. "Who is it?"

She looked around before she spotted an intercom on the wall. She pressed the talk button. "It's Rory."

"Rory? Rory who?"

"Tristan!"

"Hmm, I don't believe I know a Rory Tristan."

"I'm leaving."

"You need to lighten up."

"You need to grow up."

"I'll be right down."

Rory stood there for what seemed like forever. She wondered where in the mansion he had been and how long it would take him to get the door. If he was this rich, why didn't he have a maid or a butler to open the door?

She almost rang the doorbell again when the door opened. Tristan casually leaned against the door, his faded T-shirt and sweatpants a far cry from his rich boy persona. He smirked at her, his head cocked toward her in arrogance. "Wow, I didn't expect a house call. Are you here to give me a little afternoon delight?"

Rory wanted to slap him. Why did he have to be so annoying? She talked herself into letting the comment go before opening her mouth. "I'm here for the Godfather DVD. You said you would let me borrow it."

"Don't I get something in return?"

"My heartfelt gratitude."

He sighed dramatically. "I guess that will have to do…for now."

He stepped aside and Rory walked in, amazed by the view in front of her. A gleaming mahogany table stood in the middle of the foyer, a tall crystal vase of Casablanca lilies gracing the center of it. It drew her eyes to the S-shaped staircase behind it and to the large gold chandelier hanging directly over the table.

"Wow," Rory gasped.

Tristan rolled his eyes. "Roll your tongue back up. You're leaving drool spots on the floor."

Rory involuntarily closed her mouth. "This doesn't look like a place you live in."

"Tell me about it."

Tristan started up the stairs but Rory was glued to the floor. She started looking at the green marble underneath her feet. "Is this real?"

Tristan came up next to her and grabbed her upper arm. "What do you think?" he asked as he pulled her and started her up the stairs.

Rory pulled herself together by the time they got to the top of the stairs. "I'm sorry, I lost it for a moment."

"Yea, well, you would think you were never in a mansion before."

"But they were nothing like this."

"Get over it, Rory."

"No, really, if you touch something, does an alarm go off?"

"Drop it."

She followed him down the hallway, taking in the large portraits and paintings hung in gold frames on the wall. She stopped a moment to study a portrait of a somber young boy with blond hair standing in a red riding outfit, a whip in his hand. The boy looked a lot like Tristan, and he looked miserable.

Tristan interrupted her evaluation. "I was six," he provided.

"It looks like you were having a ball."

"Let's just say that I vowed never to ride horses again."

He clasped her wrist to pull her along. She hated how her skin reacted whenever he touched her, the tingling and the heat. She pulled her arm away gently before Tristan opened a door at the end of the hall. Rory immediately realized it was his room. It was the size of the first floor of her house, painted blue with black cotton curtains and cherry furniture. It was remarkably neat and without any sign of personal touches. He didn't linger in the room. He headed straight to a door on the far side of the room and opened it. He let her go in first without warning her that she would step into a small room with a large projection screen on a wall and a couch in front of it.

"What's this?"

"My personal screening room. I had it set up this summer while my parents were in Tokyo. They still have no idea it's here. They think this is still my closet."

She walked further into the room. "What do you mean you had it set up?"

"I hired a couple of people to set up the projector and the sound system. I bought a couch. I already had the DVDs so that wasn't a problem. It's very rustic and minimal, but it works."

"Your parents don't know you did this?"

"My parents are oblivious. They wouldn't even know I existed if they didn't get calls about my suspensions or if I didn't occasionally ask them for money. Then there's that point every couple of months where they suddenly realize they had me and try to ask me about my life or why I get into so much trouble. But mostly, I'm invisible."

She watched him through his rant, his face initially proud with having kept the room from his parents and slowly turning bitter with each word. She couldn't believe that his parents ignored him. What parent would ignore their only child?

Suddenly, as if to notice he had said too much, he changed the subject. "I set up the DVDs by genres. Godfather 3 is under gangster." He walked around her to one of the shelves. He inspected it briefly before extracting a case. "Here," he said, holding the case out to her.

She stepped up to him and took it out of his hand. "Thanks."

They continued to look at each other, Rory trying to determine how he was feeling. But his face conveyed nothing. She grappled for something to say and remembered an earlier thought. "Why did you answer the door? Don't you have help?"

"They're off this week. It's the holiday and with only me here, they really aren't needed."

"So you're here all by yourself, in this huge mansion. All alone?"

Tristan nodded. He stepped closer to her, his smile suggestive. "Unless you want to keep me company."

She stepped back, her heart jumping. Why was she nervous all of a sudden whenever he came near here?

"Can't you go and stay with someone? Maybe your grandfather?"

"He lives in Boston and I'm not up to staying there. I rather stay here."

It sounded dismal. How could he spend the days alone in this huge place? She would go insane.

She felt obligated to make a suggestion. "You can come over to my place whenever you want."

"Ah, and we'll place house while your mom is gone?"

"You're such an ass."

"Whoa, such language from a Mary." He looked around and then at the shelf. "Can you stay for a while? We can watch a movie. I have a nice little set up here."

She knew she shouldn't but she couldn't help but find the offer irresistible. "Okay."

Tristan smiled briefly before wiping it off his face. "What do you want to watch?"

"What do you have?"

They started to scan the shelves together. He had a remarkable collection. There were classics and new favorites. There were even movies she had never heard of. They suggested movies to one another, each one shot down by the other. She started a stack of movies she would take home after convincing Tristan of letting her borrow them. Even though they hadn't decided on a movie, they were having fun arguing about their selections. At one point, Rory looked over at Tristan, his brows furrowed in concentration. It was the chance she had been waiting for. His defenses down, it was now or never.

"Tristan?" She started.

"Yea?"

"Remember the other night in the sleigh? I told you we need to talk about something."

He nodded. "We talked about being friends."

"But that wasn't what I wanted to talk about."

"Oh."

"I wanted to talk about the kiss we shared when we played Romeo and Juliet."

He stopped scanning the DVD shelf and turned to her. "What?"

"I wanted to-"

"No, I heard it, but what is there to talk about?"

"Well, you noticed I kissed you back."

"Of course, I noticed it. So did everyone else there."

"Yea, well, that part wasn't planned."

He frowned. "Rory, get to it already."

"I just wanted to get your thought about that."

"About you kissing me back? Well, I can't say I was surprised. I've never had a girl I kissed not kiss me back. I think it's because I'm a good kisser. I've been told that."

"Tristan! This isn't supposed to be an ego boost for you."

"Are you kidding me? The great Lorelai Leigh Gilmore kisses me back, on stage no less, and it isn't supposed to be an ego boost?"

She caught on the sarcasm he was spewing and didn't appreciate it. "I knew it. I knew you were going to treat this like a joke instead of taking it seriously."

Tristan sobered. "Okay, so you got my thought about it. Why do you ask?"

She hesitated before telling him the truth. "I don't know why I kissed you back."

He stared at her for the longest time. It was as if he was trying to find an answer in her eyes. Finally, he just shrugged. "It's like I told you. I'm really good. That's probably why you did it."

He went back to scanning the DVD collection, letting Rory process his answer. It was a simple explanation. Tristan was just that good of a kisser and naturally she couldn't resist. Her mind tried to wrap around the reasoning but it wouldn't accept it.

"Tristan, I don't think that's it."

"Then what is it," he asked, his voice suddenly full of impatience. "What is it, Rory? Why do you think you kissed me back?"

Rory was taken aback by his outburst. "I don't know," she replied meekly.

"Then why are you talking to me about it? I don't know why you kissed me back and, really, it's none of my concern."

Rory fell silent. It had been a bad idea to bring it up. She knew it was, and yet, she thought if there had been a moment where she could bring it up, it had been at that moment. But now, Tristan was staring at the shelf, his jaw clenched.

"I'm sorry I brought it up. I'm just…I just wanted to find an answer."

Tristan side-glanced at her. "Maybe there is no answer to what happened. Things happen without reason all the time. Why should this be any different?"

Rory thought about it. He might be right. Maybe there wasn't any reason for what happened. Maybe she should give up on finding out why she kissed him back. While she was at it, she might as well give up on ever getting Dean back.

"I'm fried," she muttered. She didn't get the answer she wanted and now things would surely be strained between her and Tristan. She should have left well enough alone.

She turned toward the door in her intention of leaving. Tristan seized her elbow while she was still in his reach. "Where are you going?"

"I think I should just go home."

"Why?"

"It's going to be weird now that I mentioned the kiss, and you're pissed and-"

He shushed her and pulled her toward the couch. "Sit," he ordered.

She shook her head. "I should just leave."

"Sit," he insisted.

"Tristan, really, I-"

"Sit means you bend your knees and put your butt on the couch," he said as he gently pushed her down. "We're going to watch a movie, just like we planned and we will enjoy it."

She watched as he went back to the shelf and quickly selected a DVD. He messed with the projector behind her and the projector came alive with images. A couple of minutes later, he sat down next to her, his arms full of candy and two cans of cola. "Do you want popcorn? I have a microwave in the room."

Rory shook her head as she snatched a box of Red Vines. "Is there anything this room doesn't have?"

He smiled. "Not much. I told you I have a nice set up."

They turned to the projection on the screen, digging into the snacks. As the opening credits popped onto the screen, Tristan stole a glance at her just as she did the same. They shared a grin and settled back into the couch, ready to lose themselves into another world.


	11. Chapter 10: Juilet Explains, Kinda

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_I'm probably sounding like a broken record but I continue to be amazed by the all the positive feedback. It's remarkable and I love you all for taking the time to comment. To sam.pringle, who wonders what movie Tristan and Rory ended up watching, I was hoping I wouldn't have to answer that. There are only two movies I'm convinced they both would agree on: Ferris Bueller's Day Off and The Breakfast Club. So I'm going to say they ended up watching Ferris Bueller, because Tristan would admire how Ferris was able to skip school, sing on a parade float and drive a Ferrari without getting caught, and Rory would admire the witty dialouge. If you think I'm wrong, let me know. I'd like to see what other people think Rory and Tristan would agree on. Otherwise, enjoy._

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

That Thursday, Rory sat at a table at Luke's diner, waiting for her mother to show up. They had agreed to meet up at Luke's for dinner after Lorelai got out of the inn. Although Rory had planned to work at the inn that week, when Rory went in that morning, the place had been relatively dead. There were only a couple of guests and Rory quickly got bored. Tristan called her around two, asking if she wanted to do something and Lorelai let her go. Tristan picked her up at the inn and drove them back to Hartford, where they walked the streets of downtown, drinking coffee and looking at the stores with all the after Christmas sales. After almost two hours, they drove back to Stars Hollow and despite arguing with him for several minutes, he insisted on waiting with her at Luke's.

He sat across from her, drinking coffee out of one of Luke's huge mugs. "This coffee isn't half bad. I'm used to Starbucks, but this is a good substitute."

Rory felt oddly defensive. "Are you joking? Luke's coffee is the best, a lot better than Starbucks."

"Maybe for a small town girl."

"Bite me."

"Hmm, is that an invitation?"

Rory rolled her eyes. She took a sip of her coffee, watching as Tristan's eyes narrowed. It seemed odd how quickly his face turned from cocky to pensive. "What is it?"

"What's the story behind that bracelet?"

Rory looked down at the medallion strapped to her wrist by leather. "This?"

He nodded. "You always have it on. It's obviously not a pretty accessory."

She took offense to that. "Excuse me?"

"Well, come on. The thing is ugly as sin. There must be something else about it."

"If you must know, it holds sentimental value."

"That's what I thought. So what's the story?"

Rory vacillated before answering. She didn't want to bring up Dean, but she didn't want to lie about it either. "Dean gave it to me for my sixteenth birthday. We had just started dating."

Tristan nodded. "You still wear it, even though he broke up with you."

She shrugged. "Old habits die hard." She was afraid he would continue the subject, so she decided to change it. "My turn. Your locker has all these crude photos decorating it, yet your room is hospital bare. Why is that?"

"Somehow I don't think Harriet would appreciate December's centerfold gracing a wall in her home."

"I don't blame her. But there are other things."

His face subdued a bit. "I put a poster of Iron Maiden up once. She didn't notice it for three weeks, but when she did, I got a long lecture of music a respectable young man should be listening to. It was the most time she had talked to me, or at least at me. After that, I decided it wasn't worth the hassle. I rather have my peace and quiet than a picture on the wall."

"I've listened to Iron Maiden. They are definitely not worth the hassle."

He smirked dryly. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

She was surprised the topic changed so quickly, but she didn't comment on it. "I have dinner in the evening with my grandparents. It's something we do every Friday, no exceptions."

"What about afterwards?"

"Gilmore movie night."

She barely caught the disappointment before he averted his eyes to the coffee. She felt a bit guilty. She had forgotten that he was on his own and didn't have any distractions. By being so available to him, she had made herself his designated entertainment. She felt bad about letting it happen, but what was she supposed to do?

"We could do something on Saturday night," Rory offered.

Tristan shook his head. "My grandfather invited me up for a couple of days."

Rory frowned. "I thought you said you didn't want to stay with him."

"I thought about after we talked and I really don't spend that much time with him. I can give him a few of my days."

Rory chuckled. "I didn't know your days were so valuable."

"They weren't until recently."

He stared at her intensely and Rory felt the heat rise to her face. Was he talking about their friendship? Was it really that important to him?

Jess interrupted their eye lock by offering to refill their cups. "You've had an audience for the last two minutes," he said as he poured the dark liquid into Tristan's cup.

"What?" Rory asked, not understanding what Jess was alluding to.

Jess responded by jotting out his chin toward the window. Rory turned to what Jess was pointing at and her eyes came upon Dean, staring inside the diner, his jaw set in an angry line. Rory's heart leapt into her throat. She hadn't thought of what she would do if and when Dean saw her with Tristan. She convinced herself that Tristan was now her friend and Dean had no say in it, but now, seeing his incredulous and enraged eyes, she felt the need to go to him, to try to explain in case he didn't understand.

He shook his head in disgust and started to walk away. Before she realized it, she was on her feet, exiting the diner and rushing after him. "Dean!"

He kept walking, his hands shoved into the pockets of his black leather jacket. She reached him, almost jogging to keep up. To her astonishment, he talked first. "I didn't believe the rumors, but they were true."

"What rumors?" She asked

"Miss Patty told me you invited Tristan to the dinner. She said she thought you two were starting something. I thought she was crazy. I was certain she was on something. But now I see you with him and…"

"We're just friends, Dean. That's all."

"Since when do you become friends with someone you hate? Because that's what you told me, Rory. You told me you hated him."

"You don't understand. He doesn't have anyone right now. His friends were just shipped off. His parents are an ocean away. He's all alone."

"So the fact that you kissed him back at the play has nothing to do with your new found interest in him?"

"No…okay yes, in part. But only because I was trying to figure out why I kissed him back at the play."

"Did you find your answer?"

"No."

"Then why are you with him now? You didn't get your answer so what's your motivation to be with him?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. What was her motivation? Why was she hanging out with Tristan? She knew she was trying to help him out, but what was she getting out it?

"Just answer something for me," Dean said. "Did you know Lorelai invited me to the dinner before you invited Tristan?"

She could have lied. She could have just told him what he wanted to hear and make things easier for her. But she didn't know how she would explain why she invited Tristan if she knew Dean was invited.

She hesitated too long. Dean started to walk away. "I thought so."

She thought about following him, but knew it would be a lost cause. There was nothing she could tell him now that would make him understand why she became friends with Tristan.

She returned to the diner, stopping short from the table she had just vacated. There were two empty chairs and some money on the table. She looked up at Jess standing behind the counter. "Where's Tristan?"

"Tristan?" he repeated in mock ignorance.

"The guy I was with."

"Oh, you mean Brad Pitt. He left as soon as you did."

She didn't believe him. She left the diner and glanced at the empty parking space where Tristan's black Porsche had been parked. She could see the sports car driving down the street, turning out of sight in the distance. Her spirits sunk lower into the ground. Why did Tristan leave? She had kept her promise. She had defended their friendship to Dean despite the fact it probably cost her any reconciliation that may have come. So why did he drive away?

"Hey," she heard her mother call. Lorelai came up next to her, mocking her daughter by looking down the street. "Are we waiting for our spaceship to come?"

Rory's mouth formed a grim line. "No, I'm waiting for a baby grand to fall on my head. Maybe it'll put me out of my misery."


	12. Chapter 11: Juliet Blindsided, Part 2

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_Sorry this chapter is so short, but once you read it, I think you'll see why it should stand alone. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy._

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

The next day, Rory prepared the living room for her powwow with Paris. Rory had finished reading the Franklin articles yesterday and she had called Paris, who stated she would be there at one. She picked up the stray clothing tossed around, she cleared the coffee table of random magazines and candy wrappers, she even set a bowl of popcorn in the center of the table. She placed the takeout menus of all the nearby restaurants on one of the side tables in case she needed them later, and she was pretty sure she would. Everything was ready for a lengthy discussion of the revisions made and what else could be done. It would be tiring and arguments would arise, but Rory looked forward to it. Paris always challenged Rory and gave her a good verbal sparing.

At one, the doorbell rang. Rory took one last look at the living room, making sure nothing was missing, before she opened the door. There stood Paris in tan slacks, a dark sweater and an even darker scowl. Before Rory opened her mouth to greet her, Paris walked around Rory and into the foyer. "Hello, Paris," Rory said, bemused. "Come on in."

The visitor faced Rory, her face unyielding. "Where are they?"

She asked it as if Rory was harboring convicted felons. "They?"

"The Franklin articles."

"Oh, they are on the coffee table."

Paris turned around and walked into the living room. Rory watched as Paris picked up the papers and walked back toward the door. Rory frowned. She thought Paris and her would sit down and talk about the revisions she made and the layout of the double issue, but it was obvious Paris had other plans. Rory blocked the door before Paris got to it, wondering what was going on. "Whoa, where are you doing, Flash?"

"I'm going home."

"I thought we were going to discuss the articles."

"You were mistaken."

Rory slumped against the door. "What's wrong, Paris?"

Paris scanned Rory's face before speaking again. "Do you think I look like an idiot?"

Rory was taken aback by the left field question. "What?"

"Do I look like an idiot?" She repeated impatiently.

"No."

"Do I look like someone who can be easily deceived?"

"Of course not."

"Then why do you keep trying?"

Rory frowned in confusion. "Come again?"

"Are you having difficulty listening, Grandma?"

"No, I'm just not following what you're saying."

"You say I don't look like an idiot but you keep trying to put things past me."

"What are you talking about?"

Paris crossed her arms in front of her chest and leaned toward Rory slightly. "I'm talking about your plan to keep your relationship with Tristan under wraps."

Rory groaned. "Not this again," she muttered under her breath.

"You were seen with him in Hartford yesterday, looking lovey dovey. Not the best way to keep it a secret."

She felt her stomach tighten. She hadn't thought of the possibility someone from Chilton might see her with Tristan. "We weren't lovey dovey. We just went window shopping. We are friends, Paris. That's it."

"Is that why he was parked outside the Inn when I delivered the Franklin articles to you?"

Rory must have heard wrong. "What?"

"When I took the articles to the Inn on Friday, I noticed a black Porsche parked outside of the gate. I didn't think much about it, other than the fleeting thought of idiots getting lost in the back roads of Connecticut. Then I brought you the articles and you kept looking at the door. It was very telling, by the way. Of course, I wondered why you would be so nervous. Sure, it could have been over the party, but wouldn't nervousness then fall on your mother who planned the party? Then I remembered the Porsche and thought, I know someone with a black Porsche, a certain Chiltonite who is tall, blond and has a knack for trouble. Seemed like a long shot, but when I left, I glanced at the license plate of the Porsche. Surprise, surprise, the plate belonged to Tristan Dugray."

If Paris had taken out a two by four and smacked Rory across the head with it, it wouldn't have shocked her more than this. Her mind rattled, she tried to grasp for something logical in Paris's statement. What did she mean, Tristan was parked outside of the Inn when Paris came through? He told Rory he got lost. If he was there when Paris came to the Inn, he had been there at least twenty minutes before he came inside. That didn't make sense. Why would he do that?

"What's wrong, Rory? Thought your plan was foolproof?"

Rory came out of her thoughts at the sound of Paris's voice. "What?"

"You thought if Tristan parked outside of the Inn, I wouldn't know he was there. So he would just wait until I left and then he could come into the Inn and I wouldn't be the wiser."

Rory realized Paris thought she had planned this. "No, Paris, I didn't know anything about this."

"Of course, you didn't. Tristan just decided to take a drive through Farmland, Connecticut and took a second to rest just outside of your Inn."

"Okay, yes, I did invite him to the Bracebridge dinner, but he was supposed to be there at six-thirty."

"Right, so he could hide in one of your guest rooms while I dropped off the Franklin articles."

"Paris, I-"

"That's why you didn't want me to drop off the articles at the Inn, isn't it? You didn't want me to see him there."

Rory knew she couldn't answer that without lying. "We're just friends, Paris."

"Tristan Dugray does not have friends that are girls."

"It's the truth."

"Is he okay with you lying about your relationship with him?"

"You're not even listening."

"No, Rory, because all I hear coming out of your mouth are lies, and I'm done falling for them. If you want to burn bridges, be my guest. But you have been warned. If you want to stay on the Franklin, you better start handing in Pulitzer-worthy articles, because if you slip, I won't hesitate to drop you." She gestured to the door Rory was blocking. "Can I leave now?"

Rory knew nothing she said would change Paris's mind. The blond's mind stood firm on what it believed, even if it was all fabricated. Rory reluctantly opened the door for Paris, letting the girl go home to plot her revenge. But Paris had some parting words for Rory, delivering them with a conniving smile. "Good luck with Tristan. You're going to need it."

Rory closed the door behind Paris, leaning again the door while keeping a grasp on the door knob for support. What just happened? Paris and Rory were supposed to have a lively discussion over the first issue of Franklin for the New Year. Instead, Paris fell short of declaring war over something she didn't see coming. What was this about Tristan parked in front of the Inn the night of the dinner? How long had he been out there? Why would he stay out there at least twenty minutes, then come into the Inn and say he was late?

Rory felt very confused, but slowly the rage started to take over. She didn't know the whole story, but because Tristan dillydallied in his car, Paris was going to make her life a living hell. What was worse was he lied about it. She grabbed the keys to the Jeep from the lamp stand in the foyer and headed out of the door. Tristan had some serious explaining to do.


	13. Chapter 12: The Truth Comes Out

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show._

_Don't have much to say, except my usual, "Thanks and enjoy."_

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

He was right. She wondered how many times she had actually thought he was right. She pondered it very hard and came up with only one instance she could truly say she agreed with him, when he stated that the kiss they shared at Madeline's party didn't mean anything. Now there was a second instance, because he was correct about her regretting him being her friend.

She hadn't planned this. She had only set out to get answers to why she would kiss Tristan back. But somehow she had gotten close to him and now they were friends. She had been okay with that, but she thought that meant they would be honest with each other. Apparently, honesty didn't fit in Tristan's criteria for being a friend.

She tried to think of why he would do this. Why would he get to the Inn and wait for twenty minutes before coming inside? Why would he deliberately be late? She only came up with one solution. He was playing some sort of game with her. She didn't know what kind, but somehow, being late to the Inn was some strategic move to getting something from her.

She stopped the Jeep outside of Tristan's front door and jumped out. She didn't know if he was home. They didn't have plans that day and he hadn't mentioned what he would be doing. He better be there. She didn't know what she would do with this anger if he wasn't.

She jabbed the doorbell and waited. A couple of moments later she heard him on the intercom. "Yeah?"

"It's Rory."

"Not today, Rory. I'm not feeling so great."

"You're going to feel so much worse if you don't get your butt down here right now."

"Who peed in your Wheaties?"

"Paris did, and you gave her the bowl."

He didn't respond. Was he coming down or was he ignoring her? "Tristan?"

"I'll be down in a sec."

She waited, wondering what was wrong with him. Was he sick? It served him right. She took pleasure in knowing he would be uncomfortable, if only physically.

He opened the door and she took him in. He was squinting at her, holding his hand over his eyes as if blocking out some light. His hair was a bird's nest, his shoulders were hunched and his white t-shirt was incredibly wrinkled. He looked like a mess.

Forgetting her anger for a moment, she stepped closer to get a better look. "What's wrong with you?"

"Headache."

"Did you take anything?"

"Not really. I was trying to sleep it off until a girl started knocking on my door, sounding pissed. But then she acted like my mom so now my head hurts and it's confused."

"I'm not acting like your mom. She would have just ignored you."

The moment it escaped her mouth, she regretted it. He said his parents barely knew he existed, but that didn't mean she had license to make comments about it. She watched as he clenched his jaw and she opened her mouth to apologize but he cut her off. "What do you want Rory?"

"Why did you run off yesterday?"

"I thought this was about Paris."

"We'll get to that."

He let out a huff. "Is it necessary to prolong this conversation by not getting to the point of it?"

"The only one prolonging it is you by not answering the question."

"I got bored."

"I was only gone a second."

"What can I say? I need constant stimulus."

"So you just bailed without even leaving a note. Very considerate."

"I bailed? I'm not the one that caught one look of Stock Boy and went running. By the way, did he mention if ketchup is on sale? I'm running a little low."

"I didn't want him to get the wrong idea."

"He dumped you, Rory. What do you care if he gets the wrong idea?"

"I don't, it's just-"

"You just want to make sure nothing stands in your way when he gets bored and decides he'll take you back."

It was as if he slapped her across the face. Did he just say Dean would only come back to her if he was bored? Was she only good for entertainment? Either way, she felt insulted. "That wasn't fair, Tristan."

His face was unrepentant and even looked bored. "Can we get to Paris already? I'd like to get back to bed."

She couldn't believe how cold he was acting. Had she really considered him her friend as recently as yesterday? How could a friend of hers act this way?

He wasn't her friend. This was Tristan. This was the same spoiled, arrogant jerk she met the first day of Chilton, calling her Mary and playing with her head.

She wanted out. She couldn't stand the sight of him, but she wasn't going to leave until she got what she came for. She took a calming breath and continued. "You told me you were late to Bracebridge dinner because you got lost."

"That's what I said."

"Paris said she saw your car parked right outside the Inn's gate."

"I was looking at a map."

"For twenty minutes?"

"I never said I was Magellan."

"So somehow you missed the huge sign with "Independence Inn" stamped on it?"

Tristan crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What do you want me to say? Maybe that will speed things up a bit."

"I want you to tell me the truth."

"Fine. Yes, I was parked in front of the Inn."

"How long?"

"About thirty minutes."

She paused, dumbfounded. He had been outside the Inn for thirty minutes? "Why?"

He turned his eyes down at the marble floor, flexing his fingers. She got the impression he wasn't going to tell her why. She looked at the door and thought she should just leave. She got her confirmation, and even though she came for an explanation, she wasn't sure she wanted to continue talking to him. Or rather, arguing with him. She didn't want it to end this way. She thought they had made progress. She actually thought they could make it work and they could be the best of friends, but she wasn't going to let him lie to her and treat her like crap.

"My life was a lot less complicated without you in it," she heard him say.

She gazed back at him, his ice blue eyes locked on her. He continued. "You didn't even notice that before the play I hadn't spoken to this year."

She hadn't notice, but a quick scan of the last few months confirmed what he said. She shrugged. "I still heard about you. There were always rumors about your girlfriends and your pranks. I saw you in the halls every once in a while. I guess it seemed like you were still around."

"It was nice, wasn't it? I didn't get you in trouble with Paris, didn't cause tension between you and Dean. I didn't get lectures or get pushed into dating someone I didn't like. I intended to keep it that way, then this stupid play came along." He chuckled. "It's like I can't get away from you. Even when I try, something comes up. A party, a play. It's unbelievable. Then you started sitting with me and invited me to the dinner. So when I got to the Inn, I realized what it all meant. If I walked in there, I wouldn't be able to ignore you. At least, not as easily as I did before. I didn't know if I wanted to go that route."

She understood. In retrospect, she had made that same decision when she invited him. She knew then that she wouldnt be able to act like he was a nobody in her life. But there was one thing she didn't grasp. "How did I complicate your life? Other than that time with Paris, I didn't affect your life at all."

He shook his head as if in disbelief. "You are incredibly dense."

"What did you say?"

"There is no way in hell you are this oblivious."

She had no idea what he was alluding to. "What are you talking about, Tristan?"

He intently looked at her for the longest time, then shook his head again. "Go home and think long about it. Was that all you wanted to talk about?"

She thought about it. Really, she already got the answer she wanted, but now she wanted him to answer her last question. "No, because I want you to tell me how I complicated your life."

"Rory, I think I've answered a lot of questions today. I really don't want to get into this, because if you don't know how you complicated my life, then you aren't as smart as I thought you were."

She didn't like him insinuating she was stupid. "Oh, I know what this is about. Big man on campus got rejected by a small town girl and he got hassled by his friends. Sorry I ruined your track record, but you weren't exactly suave. You just expected me to take one look at you and swoon. Sorry I don't date arrogant jerks."

He applauded. "Congratulations. You figured it out. Now go home."

She watched him, knowing she hadn't figured it out at all. "Why won't you just tell me?"

"Drop it, Rory."

"I thought when we became friends, we were going to be honest with each other. I thought we would tell each other things. But now you're keeping things from me, and I don't understand why."

"Because it's so apparent that I have a thing for you!"

His frustrated confession slightly echoed through the foyer. Rory stood in disbelief, trying to manage the revelation. It wasn't true. He was just playing another game with her. Or maybe he was confused. But he didn't have a thing for her. "I don't believe you."

His eyes flashed in anger. "Really? I thought I made it quite clear, with picking a fight with Dean, getting caught staring at you in class and spending my monthly stipend on P. J. Harvey tickets."

"You were just trying to get under my skin. And the tickets…that was just another ploy to get me to date you."

He opened his mouth to respond, then closed his mouth. "Think whatever you want, Rory. You won't listen to anything I say, anyway. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going back to bed. Suddenly, my headache is getting worse."

He started for the stairs. Rory watched him, thinking this was it. This was the end of their friendship. There was no turning back from here. There was no regrouping from this. This was the end.

Somehow, she felt empty inside. She briefly thought about all the things he said. Did she really miss all the signs? How did she easily dismiss all of the signals? The tickets should have been a dead giveaway, but she didn't think too much about it. She thought he actually heard of P. J. Harvey, and when he said he hadn't, she hadn't had time to think of it because she was too busy trying to get back together with Dean. If she would have just thought about it, maybe she would have realized the implication behind it.

It was too late now. She had forced him to confess a secret she wasn't ready to address, all because she wanted him to be honest with her. Now she was going to lose him.

She shouldn't care. Tristan was never her favorite person in the world, but now… The thought of letting things go back to the way they were, where they didn't even talk to each other, was disheartening. She had to admit that her life wouldn't be the same without him. She would miss his cocky smile, his quick comebacks to her insults, the way his eyes held her in place when he stared at her. She would miss his sporty scent, her skin reacting when he touched her hand, the acceleration of her heart when he came near her. She would miss feeling alive.

That's when she knew. Standing there in Tristan's cold foyer, watching Tristan's retreating back, she knew why she kissed him back. She felt idiotic for not knowing earlier, or maybe she always knew, just never admitted. Yea, that was it. She didn't want to admit her feelings for Tristan, but facing losing him, she couldn't ignore them anymore.

"Tristan?"

He stopped short from the first step and turned. "What?"

She walked up to him, butterflies in her stomach. She just made a quick decision that made her want to vomit, it made her so nervous. But when she looked into his eyes, she knew she was doing the right thing.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, watching his cold eyes suddenly come to life with confusion, before lifting her lips and kissing him. She felt him tense slightly, then cup her face in his hands and kiss her back. Her heart raced as their lips rubbed together, her fingers gripping his T-shirt for support. Her skin tingled, just like all those times when she remembered their stage kiss, and she savored the moment as if it was their first kiss.

She drew back, hoping her heart would calm down. Her eyes went to his, seeing the confusion hadn't disappeared at all. She smiled faintly, enjoying catching him off guard. She decided she needed to make a confession of her own. "You might not believe it, but I have a thing for you, too."

He returned her smile, his cockiness slowly returning. "Yea, I know," he whispered before he captured her lips, giving her a searing kiss that left her breathless.


	14. Chapter 13: Our Lips are Sealed

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_Okay, sorry I took longer than usual to post this. I wanted to take a little break because I've been putting a lot of time into this, and I felt Tristan and Rory's kiss was the perfect place to take a break. Thanks for the patience. Yes, it took a long time for them to finally get together, but when it comes to Rory, this was pretty quick. Thanks for sticking it out and I hope you keep enjoying._

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

A week after leaving Tristan's place in a kiss-induced euphoria, Rory sat on the couch in her home, willing her phone to ring. Tristan was supposed to return from Boston that day, and she was waiting for him to call her so they could make plans to get together. The week had taken her high and low. One day she would feel exhilarated with the thought of seeing him again. The next day, she would dwell on the consequences that this involvement would bring. As much as she wanted to be with Tristan, she couldn't ignore the obvious backlash. Forget the fact that Paris was going to make her life a living hell at Chilton. She could just imagine the looks from her fellow students, wondering what she was doing with the King of Chilton and vice versa. Despite their breakup, she still felt guilty about dating the guy that caused her fallout with Dean. She hadn't even told her mother yet, afraid her mother wouldn't approve of her new love interest. It just seemed like a lot of negatives.

To top it all off, she couldn't stop thinking about Tristan's past relationships. In the year and a half she had gone to school with him, the longest relationship he had been in lasted a month. Lately, he hadn't even been referring to the girls he was involved with as his girlfriends. It seemed that he was becoming one of those guys that just had a lot of friends with benefits. She didn't want to think that would happen to her, but she didn't want to fool herself. He hadn't even bothered to call her while she was away. She wasn't ready for another heartbreak, and much less from notorious bad boy Tristan Dugray.

That was why she couldn't wait to see him. She had all week to think about it and she felt the best thing was to keep the relationship a secret. She didn't think he would be happy about it, but after she explained it to him, she was sure he would understand, or at least try it. She just felt if the relationship wasn't going to last, they shouldn't announce it to the world. She'd have enough to worry about with her own reaction. She didn't need Paris rubbing it in her face or her mother trying to talk her through it. Of course, she wouldn't tell him that. She would use Paris or her mother as an excuse. She was sure he wouldn't appreciate it if she said it was due to her insecurity regarding his track record.

She stared at the phone on the coffee table. "Ring, damn it," she muttered at the silent device. He hadn't told her when he planned on getting home, but she thought he would have done it by now. It wasn't like Boston was hundreds of miles away. Maybe he wouldn't come home until the evening. Maybe he was staying a couple of more days.

While she was mulling on whether or not to call him, the doorbell rang. She groaned, thinking it was Lane with some new music she wanted Rory to listen to or Babette wanting to ask her an off the wall question. She reluctantly got off the couch and opened the door. On the other side was Tristan, his patented cocky smile in place. "Hey," he greeted huskily.

Surprised, Rory smiled back. "Hey."

He stepped up to her and gave her a sweet lingering kiss. "I came straight here."

"From Boston? I thought you were going to call."

"This is better, isn't it?"

She nodded and leaned in for another kiss before stepping away from the door to let him in. Once in the foyer, he handed her a bundle wrapped in Christmas foil. She looked at the bundle quizzically. "What's this?"

He shrugged, feigning ignorance. "Open it and find out."

She sat down on the couch, looking down at the shiny paper in awe. Tristan sat next to her and she turned to him. "I didn't get you anything."

"Don't worry about it. Just open it."

She ripped into the paper, revealing a burgundy messenger bag. She was bewildered as to why he would give her such a generic gift. But she wasn't about to be rude. "Thanks," she said flatly.

"Turn it over."

She did as he said, staring at the bag's flap. She instantly recognized the Veritas emblem and the block letters under it spelling Harvard. She smiled with pleasure. "You got me a Harvard bag."

"It's my grandfather's alma mater. Actually, the last three generations of Dugrays have gone to Harvard. My grandfather wanted me to meet with some of the admissions officers and while I was there, I thought I'd pick you up something."

"You really shouldn't have."

He shrugged. "I didn't mind. Besides, now you can get rid of that goofy yellow bag."

She gasped in offense. "I love my yellow bag."

"It's too bright. You can be spotted a mile away."

"I don't care. I'm not getting rid of it."

He sighed dramatically. "Fine."

She looked down at her present. "Thank you."

"You're welcomed." He leaned in and kissed her, his hand cupping her neck to keep her close. It was unnecessary. The moment his lips touched hers, she leaned into him, surrendering to the sweet feeling she got whenever she kissed Tristan.

When Tristan tried to deepen the kiss, she drew back. She didn't think she could handle anything deeper and it didn't help her gain strength to confront him about their relationship. She was uneasy about approaching it, even though she knew it needed to be done, and she didn't need the added deviations.

He looked at her with concern. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head. "How did it go with your grandfather?"

He leaned back against the back of the couch. "It went well. He badgered me the first day about all the trouble I get into, but after that he calmed down."

"Did you spend a lot of time with him?"

"Somewhat. He spent a lot of time in his office but we had dinner together most nights. I also went with him to a New Year's party. It was mostly his business partners and associates, but there were some young girls there."

A spark ignited in her stomach. "Young girls?" she repeated.

He laughed. "Relax. I was a saint. I swear."

She realized her two words revealed more than she intended and tried to reverse things. "Oh, I don't care. It's not like I'm your girlfriend or anything."

She hadn't meant to say the part about being his girlfriend. True, she wasn't sure she was his girlfriend, but she shouldn't have brought it up. His frosty blue eyes lost their mirth and his smile faded. "Right. You're not."

Her heart sank, but she tried to seem unaffected. "So, you had no need to have acted like a saint. You could have acted like a sinner and it wouldn't have mattered."

He nodded as if he understood. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Not that I'm condoning becoming a sinner. I mean, the whole aspect of spending eternity in hell is a major drawback. But hey, it's your soul and you should decide how you spend eternity."

"Rory, I get it. You're not my girlfriend. Message received."

It was obvious to her that his whole mood made a one eighty as soon as she said she wasn't his girlfriend. She didn't want to hope, but maybe he had thought she was his girlfriend. Or maybe he thought she would beg him to be his girlfriend and was disappointed she wasn't jumping to the chance. She hoped it wasn't the latter but she still felt brave enough to ask. "Did you think I was your girlfriend?"

Tristan avoided her eyes. "I think I should go home."

He tried to stand up but her hand on his forearm stopped him. "Answer me, Tristan."

"I don't think it matters, since you don't want to be my girlfriend."

"I still want an answer."

He gritted his teeth. "Yes."

Her heart skipped in elation. He considered her his girlfriend. "Then why didn't you call me all week?"

"I figured you needed time to yourself. Realizing you like someone you used to hate mustn't be easy on the psyche."

"I never hated you, Tristan."

"Still, I thought I'd let you get used to the idea before I start smothering you."

"It did give me a lot of time to think."

"I'm sure that's why you're not my girlfriend."

She smiled at him. "I am your girlfriend."

He looked up, his azure eyes hinting hope. "Yea?"

She nodded. "But I need to ask you to be okay with something."

"Should I be scared?"

"It's going to be weird for a lot of people that we're together. I haven't even told my mother yet that we're doing this. I will tell her eventually, and everyone else, but I want it to be right."

He stared at her pensively. "So, you want to keep us a secret?"

She nodded. "Just for a little while. At least until I can tell my mother."

He took a moment before he nodded. "Okay."

"Okay?" She repeated in disbelief.

"Hey, it won't be easy to explain this to anyone at school, either. It won't look good that my girlfriend is a Mary, especially since people are still speculating as to why I wasn't involved in the Bowman safe incident. Once this gets out, everyone will think I went soft."

She hadn't thought of how this would affect him. "Do you think we should we even be trying this?"

In response, Tristan leaned over and kissed her softly.

"Okay, I vote for trying this," she said when her mind could form a thought.

He smiled. "Good choice."

"So, tell me more about your week with your grandfather."

"Actually, I should get going. Laurent and Harriet are waiting for me to come home. They don't even know I was stopping here first."

Rory's face fell. "Oh."

"Yea, who would have thought? They said they brought something for me in Martinique. They actually thought about me."

She tried to hide the disappointment the best she could. She thought he would stay awhile so they could talk more about Boston and New Years. But she knew it was great his parents were showing some interest in him. She just wished it could have waited until tomorrow.

Rory walked him to the door, trying to smile. "Okay, you can tell me more about your visit tomorrow. We can get lunch somewhere. Maybe we can even see a movie here, although you'd have to bring the movie because I've seen everything our local movie rental place has to offer."

Tristan rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Rory, but I can't. Technically, I'm still grounded about the car thing."

She sulked. "We went out before."

"But Laurent and Harriet weren't here. They can be very strict when it comes to punishment, especially if I disgrace them with my behavior."

"So when will I see you again?"

He shrugged. "They never told me when my punishment was over. But I'll figure something out."

She nodded. He kissed her goodbye. "I'll call you," he whispered.

"You said that last time."

"I promise this time."

She watched him walk to his car, his hands in his coat pockets, his golden head hung low. She wondered how he felt about going back to his home now that his parents were there. She often felt sorry for Tristan staying in his mansion by himself but wondered if having his parents there would be better or worse. Hopefully, they would let him out of his punishment soon, but she doubted it would be before their break was over. It looked like the rest of her vacation was shot.


	15. Chapter 14: Business Call Ruins the Plan

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_Okay, sorry I went MIA on all of you. I have been working on the story. There are 4 chapters written after this, but I wasn't sure where I wanted the story to go, or if I wanted it to go this way. I'm back on track (I hope), so I'll try to do my best and go back to posting a chapter per week. I hope you all remember where I left off (hint: Tristan and Rory have just decided they're a couple but they want to keep it a secret.) Thanks for reading!_

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

Lorelai and Rory stared at the thick wooden front door of the Gilmore estate as if they were standing before a firing squad. Gilmore Friday dinners weren't usually something they looked forward to, and now with more reason. Lorelai's parents were still adjusting to Richard's retirement and last week, the dinner conversation seemed strained between the two elder Gilmores. It was more awkward than usual and the girls were anticipating a repeat performance.

"We still have time," Lorelai pointed out. "We can just get back into the Jeep and drive home. We'll just call in sick."

"You do this every week, Mom."

"No, I only say this every week. Come on. We can say we ate some old Christmas ham that made us stay on the potty."

"Ewww, gross."

"Please, Rory."

"The sooner we get in there, the sooner it'll be over."

"Or the longer we'll be in there. Do you really want to submit yourself to extra minutes of staring across the dinner table at your tortured mother and your despondent grandparents?"

God, her mom was such a child. Rory took the initiative and ran the doorbell. "What did you do that for?" Lorelai shrieked.

"We are already here. It's too late to call in sick. Besides, Grandma will want a doctor's note."

"I'm sure we could wrangle one up."

"Give it up."

Lorelai pouted as an unfamiliar face opened the door. An obviously new maid stood before them, her eyes shifting nervously. "Good evening," she greeted softly.

"Hello, I'm Lorelai and this is Rory."

The maid smiled slightly. "Hello. Come in, please. Mrs. Gilmore is expecting you."

Lorelai and Rory walked into the foyer a second before hearing Emily's voice. "Is that the girls, Sara?"

Sara visually flinched. "Yes, Mrs. Gilmore."

"Then what are you waiting for to bring them in?"

Sara hesitated but Lorelai quickly took off her coat. "She was just taking our coats, Mom." Lorelai nudged Rory as she handed the coat to the maid. Rory quickly followed suit. The girls were rewarded with a grateful grin before Sara took their coats away. The girls walked into the sitting room where Emily stood at the bar. "Hello, girls."

They exchanged their greetings and Emily gave Lorelai her drink and Rory her soda. When Emily sat in the settee across from her girls, she smiled pleasantly. "Anything new?"

Lorelai exchanged looks with her daughter before shaking her head. "No, not a thing."

"How about you, Rory? Anything new?"

Rory shook her head. "Nope."

"Are you enjoying your winter break? You only have one more week, don't you?"

"Yes, I'm enjoying it and yes, I have a week left."

"Anything planned?"

"I have some work to finish for the Franklin."

Emily nodded. Rory could tell her grandmother was desperate to make small talk. Apparently, her mother noticed, too. "Mom, where's Dad?"

"He just got a call from one of his former business associates. Sara?" Emily called.

Sara magically appeared by Emily. "Yes, Mrs. Gilmore?"

"Please tell Mr. Gilmore the girls are here and we're waiting on him."

"I'm right here, Emily," Richard said as he came from the hallway and went to the bar to fix his drink. "Hello, Lorelai. Rory."

"Hello, Dad."

"Hello, Grandpa."

"Richard, your business associate, does he not know you're retired?"

"Calm down, Emily. He only asked me one business-related question. We mostly spoke about Rory."

Rory sat up in attention when she heard this. "Me? Why?"

He sat down in his armchair. "He wanted me to thank you on his behalf."

Rory was confused. "I don't understand."

"The caller was Janlen Dugray. He said that, thanks to a suggestion you made to his grandson, he had a very pleasant visit from Tristan this past week. He told me I should be proud to have a granddaughter with a strong sense of family. Of course, I told him I've always been proud of my Rory."

Rory blushed by the compliment. "Thanks, Grandpa."

"He wanted me to tell you he is pleased his grandson is finally dating a girl with some values, intelligence and compassion."

Rory felt like grimacing. Her grandfather had just opened a Pandora box without knowing. She just hoped her mother didn't notice what her grandfather had said.

No such luck. Lorelai immediately jumped to interject. "Oh, Rory isn't dating Tristan, Dad. Right, Rory?"

Rory avoided her mother's eyes. She focused on her grandmother, instead. "Is there anything new with you, Grandma?"

Lorelai didn't give Emily a chance to answer that. "Rory, tell my father you're not dating Tristan."

Rory stared at her hands in her lap. "I'm not. At least, not technically."

"Not technically?" Lorelai asked, her voice raising a decibel.

"He's grounded," Rory stated, hoping it would explain it all.

"He's grounded?" Her grandfather repeated.

"What happened to Dean?" Emily asked.

"Dean and I broke up," Rory provided.

"Over Tristan, may I add?" Lorelai included.

"Why is he grounded?" Richard asked.

"I told you, Richard," Emily said with a degree of satisfaction in her voice.

"That you did."

"Told him what, Mother?"

"That Rory and Dean had ended their relationship. You just stopped talking about him several dinners ago and when he wasn't at the Bracebridge dinner, I had a feeling the relationship was over."

"I didn't want to tell you," Rory jumped to explain, fearing her grandmother would accuse Rory of not sharing the events of her life. "I thought there was a chance we would get back together, so I didn't want to say anything in case we did."

"But you didn't, and now you're seeing Tristan." When Rory nodded, Emily smiled. "Well, I think it's wonderful. He is a very handsome young man and from a family in good standing in this area."

"Not to mention the bright future he has before him. Janlen said he was going to Harvard. Of course, it's not Yale, but Harvard is one of the top schools in the country."

"If he makes it," Rory heard Lorelai mumble.

"Of course, he's going to make it," Rory mumbled back.

"What was that?" Richard asked.

"Nothing," Lorelai replied. She turned to her daughter. "May I see you in the study for a moment?"

Lorelai rose to her feet before Rory answered. "But dinner is about to be served," Emily protested.

"This will only take a second," Lorelai assured.

Rory followed her mother down the hall, watching as her mother's heels made angry tapping noise against the hardwood floor. She was upset, and Rory knew she was about to get an earful from her mother. Her only hope was to get the first word in before her mother started on a tirade. That would slow her down a bit.

When the study door closed behind them, Rory blurted. "I meant to tell you."

"When? After the wedding invitations were printed?"

"I just didn't know how to bring it up."

"Gee, you could have said, 'Hey, Mom, I'm seeing Tristan now.'"

"I wasn't ready, okay? It happened right before he left, and then he was gone for a week and I didn't even talk to him. I didn't know what was going on until today. How was I supposed to come to you if I wasn't sure what I was going to say?"

"My father knew something about you that I didn't. Do you know how twisted that is?"

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Tristan, but I wanted to make sure I knew what to tell you. Tristan isn't known for his commitment capabilities and I wanted to make sure I knew whether I was his girlfriend or his special friend."

Lorelai crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Well?"

Rory cocked her head in confusion. "Well what?"

"Which one is it?"

She replied hesitantly. "I'm his girlfriend."

"Hey, stop shouting it from the rooftops."

"It's so weird. I spent the last year and a half loathing this guy, and now I'm his girlfriend."

"Well, they do say loathing makes the heart grow fonder."

"I believe that's the first I've ever heard that."

"So it's definitely over with Dean?"

"Mom, it has been over with Dean since Dean said it was over."

"I know, but you fought it for a while."

"I was in denial about Dean, and Tristan. But now I'm with Tristan, which means it's definitely over with Dean."

"Thanks for making that crystal."

"Can we go back to dinner now?"

Rory started to walk out of the study, expecting her mother to follow, when her mother seized her forearm. "Just promise me one thing."

Rory looked at Lorelai warily, cautious of what would be said. "What?"

"Next time you start dating a guy, don't wait for my father to find out before telling me."

"I promise, you'll know before Grandpa."

They started to walk out of the study. "Will I know before my mother?"

"Most definitely," Rory comforted.

"Will I know before Lane?

"Don't push it."


	16. Chapter 15: Sleeping With Romeo

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show. _

_So it's very comforting to know that even though I didn't update the story to two months, you still wanted to continue reading my humble story. Thanks to everyone reads and reviews this. I really appreciate you taking the time to read this and fuel me by putting this on your story alert or adding a review. It means a lot to me. Enjoy._

_**xoxoxoxoxo**_

_"One step beyond that boundary line which resembles the line dividing the living from the dead lies uncertainty, suffering, and death. And what is there? Who is there?- there beyond that field, that tree, that roof lit up by the sun? No one knows, but one wants to know. You fear and yet long to cross that line, and know that sooner or later it must be crossed and you will have to find out what is there, just as you will inevitably have to learn what lies the other side of death. But you are strong, healthy, cheerful, and excited, and are surrounded by other such excitedly animated and healthy men." So thinks, or at any rate feels, anyone who comes in sight of the enemy, and that feeling gives a particular glamour and glad keenness of impression to everything that takes place at such moments._

Rory desperately tried to emerge herself in the world Tolstoy created in War and Peace without success. It was quarter to one in the morning and she sat in her bed, propped up by her pillows. She had tried to go to sleep, but thoughts of Tristan kept creeping into her mind. She thought reading would help her relax and pass the time, but for every moment she spent concentrating on the book, five moments were spent on thinking of Tristan. She laid the book down on her lap and looked up at the ceiling. It had been three days since she had seen him and he had only called once. Logically for her, that should be enough contact for three days, but she really wanted to see him. She wanted to see his mischievous eyes, his arrogant smile, his irresistible lips. She wanted to knock him down a couple notches with her words, then kiss his frown away. She wanted to look down and see her fingers laced in his and feel the delicious tingle it sent down her spine.

She chuckled to herself. God, she was pathetic. When did she become this lovesick, no, make that likesick dope who only reflected on romantic thoughts? She hated girls who only lived for their boyfriends and complained about not spending enough time with them. She hated the thought of becoming one of those girls.

She sighed and picked up the book, resolved to read it until sleep came. She barely started reading when she heard a tap on her window. She looked up, but her curtain obscured her view. She shrugged it off, thinking it was probably a low tree branch rapping against the window. She turned back to the book and heard the tap again. Curious, she made her way out of bed and over to her window. Cautiously, she drew the curtain and found herself staring at the object of her thoughts. He crouched down in front of the window, his smile wide. Stunned, she unlocked the latch and opened the window, the cold air cooling her face. "What are you doing here?" She asked.

He ignored her question. "Let's go for a drive."

"Tristan, it's one in the morning."

He shrugged it off. "I'm not sleepy and by the looks of things, neither are you."

"But it's late. My mom would flip if I went out now."

"Well, how would she find out?"

"Don't underestimate Lorelai Gilmore. She might not be looking for something, but they tend to magically fall onto her lap."

"Come on, Rory. It's only an hour. Leave a note if it makes you feel better, but it won't be necessary. We'll be back before she gets a chance to find out."

"No," she said firmly.

He gazed at her blankly, as if he didn't comprehend what she said. He blinked. "Okay."

She was surprised he accepted her rejection that easily. The surprise escalated when he swiftly draped his leg over the window sill. "What are you doing," she hissed, looking over her shoulder at her door.

He effortlessly slipped through the window. He closed the window for her. "I'm spending the next hour with my girlfriend. Where we spend that hour is up to you. I'd like to go for a ride, but now that I see you in your Strawberry Shortcake PJs, I wouldn't mind spending the hour here."

"You can't be in my room, Tristan. If my mom sees you-"

Tristan wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in close. "God, even when you go to bed you dress as a Mary. Once my grounding is lifted, we're going to make a trip to Victoria's Secret. I see you in a sheer black babydoll and a matching thong."

Rory nervously laughed at the thought. "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing something like that."

"But I don't want you to be caught dead in it, just be in my bed wearing it."

She shook her head vehemently. "No."

"Mary," he whispered in her ear.

"You know I don't like that name."

"Then don't live up to it. Come with me."

His breath in her ear made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "I know you like to throw caution to the wind, but I'm not that kind of girl."

"Okay. We'll just stay here. I'm sure your mother will be perfectly fine with finding a guy in her daughter's room."

He kissed her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. "Go home, Tristan."

"Can't, not until I get my fix. Who knows when I'll see you again?"

"Have you asked your parents when your punishment will be over?"

"They said it would be soon. They want to make sure I learned my lesson."

The house creaked, making her heart jump. "You have to go."

"It's only been five minutes."

"Please! I'll get into so much trouble if my mom finds you here."

"We're being really quiet, so relax, okay?" He let go of her and took off his blue ski jacket, tossing it in the corner. He walked over to her bed, bouncing on it to test it before kicking his shoes off and laying back on it. "Not bad. Very small, but comfy."

She stared at him for a moment, wondering if her mother would wake up at the sound of Rory killing him. It was unbelievable that she still had murderous thoughts toward him, even though they were now a couple. She closed her door and for the first time she could remember, locked it. She was amazed she even knew how to do it and it hadn't rusted over from lack of use. "If I get in trouble for this, you're dead."

He waved the threat off. "As if I've never heard that before." He smiled slyly. "Come here."

She shook her head. "I may not be able to get you out of here, but I refuse to get caught in bed with you."

"Come on, Mary," he summoned.

"No."

He feigned a yawn, closing his eyes. "Boy, am I tired. If I fell asleep right now, I don't think you could ever wake me up."

"Stop trying to manipulate me."

"I just want you to lie down for a few minutes. I promise, your mother will not come in and catch us."

She knew she shouldn't. Tristan was the kind of guy that knew how to take advantage of a situation like this. But she hoped if she cooperated with him, it might spur him to leave faster. Never mind the fact that the sight of him in her bed tempted her to no end. She walked up to the bed and laid down beside him, letting him envelope her in his arms.

"I missed you," he whispered into her hair.

She suddenly felt warm inside. "What have you been doing?"

"Thinking about you."

She rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Tristan."

"I've been spending more time with my parents than I care to."

"Are things getting better?"

"I suppose. It's less tense. I've stayed out of trouble for over a month, so that eases everything."

She rested her head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat while he played with a strand of her hair. "You're risking it being here."

"A calculated risk. My mother has trouble sleeping, so she takes something to help her through the night. My father is dead to the world once he reaches his REM. Unless there's a fire, they won't know I left, and if there is a fire, I'm betting they'll be too busy being relieved than being upset I skipped out."

She mulled over his family situation briefly, putting her arm around his waist. "I know they would."

She couldn't see his face, but she felt his body relax slightly. "I want to bring you home one day."

She was caught off guard. It wasn't something she thought she'd hear him say, and much less when they just started dating. "Um, okay."

"Not this week, probably not even this month. Just one day. They think I just date frivolous girls. That's what my mom says, anyway. 'Tristan, I'm glad you're getting all the frivolous girls out of your system now. When you become a man, you'll be ready for a girl of your stature.'"

"And you think I'm a girl of your stature?"

"I know you are."

She permitted herself a small smile, snuggling in closer to him. "Do you always think so highly of yourself?"

"What are you talking about? I don't think highly of myself. I just know how great I am."

He ran his fingers through her hair, making her head tingle deliciously. She closed her eyes, savoring his warmth beside her. She could stay like that forever, if she didn't have to worry about her mother finding them this way and getting the wrong idea.

She really should try to get him to leave, but she would steal a couple more moments with him, since she wasn't sure when they would be together like this again. So when he placed a finger under her chin and drew her lips up to his, she wasn't worried because it was going to end soon. She let his warmth wash over her, relished the light way his knuckles brushed her cheek before his fingers settled on her shoulder.

The kiss started out slow and sweet, but it slowly grew deeper, more intense. Tristan's lips stroked hers over and over, drawing her breath, making her mindless. She loved the taste of him. His smell intoxicated her. She wanted to get closer to him even though she knew she couldn't possibly get any closer than this.

She was lost, until his fingers slipped under the v-neck of her PJs, caressing her bare skin above her collarbone. It effectively jarred her back to Earth, making her realize where she was, what position she was in. She stiffened, drawing back from him as she drew his hand away.

Tristan immediately drew back. "Sorry, was that too much?"

Her head jerked in a nod as she sat up and tried to collect her thoughts. What was she thinking? She was lying next to Tristan Dugray, on her twin bed, in her jammies. Did she really think nothing would happen if she let him kiss her? Was she that trusting and naïve? Her mind was reeling as she muttered the first thing that popped into her head. "I think you should leave now."

"Come on, Rory. You don't mean that."

"It's late and I'm getting tired," she lied.

"Rory, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, but I know how to behave and it won't happen again."

She didn't respond. He sounded sincere enough, but she couldn't trust him in her room, and even worse, she couldn't trust herself. She just hoped he would take the hint that she wanted him gone.

But he didn't. He gently pulled her down to him. "Tristan," she protested weakly as her head landed on his chest.

"Shhh," he hushed. "No kisses, I promise."

"But-"

"Don't. Let me stay a little longer. I'll leave in ten minutes."

She wanted to argue but instead she looked at the soft pink alarm clock on her night stand. Ten minutes. She was going to give him his ten minutes and then he would be gone. No exceptions. In the meanwhile she stared at her wall as her head bobbed rhythmically with his steady breathing. She cracked a yawn, closing her eyes a moment, trying to rest her tired pupils.

The next time she opened her eyes, the clock read three thirty and she had a crink in her neck. She groaned when she raised her head, the ache affecting her head. Her eyes met Tristan, who looked very alert despite the fact that he had been laying in the same position for 2 hours without anything to do. "You let me fall asleep?"

He shrugged. "I figured you needed it."

"But the ten minutes…" When he smiled triumphantly, she narrowed her eyes. "You took advantage of it."

"I couldn't disturb your sleep by trying to leave. Besides, I wanted to show you I could behave."

"So you just laid there?"

He held up War and Peace. "I read a bit."

"Really?" She said incredulously.

"Well, no, but after I tried, I started looking around your room and at your things and…" He dropped the book and held up a leather strap. "I found this on your nightstand."

Her stomach dropped as she recognized Dean's bracelet in his fingers. "Oh," she whispered.

"I didn't realize you kept it."

"I didn't mean to keep it. I just took it off one day and I guess I let it on the table. I swear, I haven't worn it since we started."

He stared at her as if he could determine if she was lying or not. What she said was the truth. She hadn't thought about the bracelet and she really should have put it away, but she never thought Tristan would be in her room and he would be able to find it.

"I can get rid of it for you," he offered somberly.

She knew she should let him, because it would probably put his mind at ease, but she couldn't stand the thought of it being tossed away like a used tissue. "No, I can do it. Actually, I should be giving it back to Dean. He made it himself so he'd probably get upset if he found out I tossed it."

"Okay, if that's what you want. I guess I should go. If I don't get home soon, I'm sure sleep will find me at the wheel."

She stood up next to the bed, watching as he slipped into his shoes, his coat, smiled at her. "Will you be okay?" She asked. "You're not tired, are you?"

"Not yet. I'll be fine." He came to her and gingerly kissed her lips. "Will you be okay?"

She tilted her head in consternation. "Yea, why wouldn't I be?"

He shrugged, trying without success to suppress the cocky turn to his smile. "Well, going back to sleep without me is going to be near impossible."

She narrowed her eyes at him as he chuckled. "I think I'll be fine."

He backed away from her. "Keep telling yourself that."

She knew she was giving him the death glare, but he just continued to smile as slipped out of her window. She locked it, watching him sneak through the lawn and slide into his sleek car. She slipped back into bed. How could he be so bigheaded all the time? Did he ever feel the least bit insecure? How could she even stand it? If it wasn't for those piercing blue eyes and that heartstopping smile, she wouldn't be able to be around him for sure.

She lay back on her pillow, turning off her lamp. The night enveloped her, along with the lingering smell of Tristan's cologne and the sensation of his fingers on her bare skin. He might be gone, but somehow, she felt she was still going back to sleep with him.


	17. Chapter 16: Old Year vs New Year

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show._

_Hi everyone. I meant to post this on Saturday but my internet decided to flake over the Memorial Day weekend. No matter. I hope you enjoy as always. _

_**xoxoxoxoxo**_

Crimson ink marked the college ruled paper, turning the sheet into a blend of blue lines, black squiggles, red strikes on a white background. Rory took a deep breath, scanning the pages before her. Her third assignment for the New Years addition of the Franklin entitled New Year's Hope had been a special assignment from Paris. The article was originally an argument of the false hope a New Year brought, that everything was possible in the New Year and it was the perfect time to make changes, but hardly anything ever changed. It was suppose to shatter the whole New Year resolution, render it useless, but Rory couldn't help the optimistic turn the article had taken. What started as a slam of the idealism of new years turned into advocacy of letting go of the past completely and embrace the future wholeheartedly. Now proofread, she should go home and write it again.

She sat back and took a swig of Luke's magical brew, savoring the sweetness and the bitterness on her tongue. She allowed herself to think about Tristan. She couldn't help but think the turn in the article was due to him. They started something completely new to her. She feared him so much, the feelings he invoked in her, the dread of him hurting her. There was also the excitement of it. Tristan couldn't be more different from Dean, and the unknown intrigued her. With Dean, she had felt safe, comfortable, humdrum. Tristan was unpredictable, reckless, thrilling. She still couldn't stop thinking about what happened two nights ago. Even though she had been horrified at first, now when she remembered his touch, her stomach flopped and she became flushed. She wondered what would have happened if she had let him continued. Would he had stopped there, or would he have tried to go further? And how far would she have let him go before stopping him?

She huffed. She needed to stop thinking about it. Nothing happened, and she was relieved it didn't. She really needed to finish her coffee and head back to her house to finish this article, and hopefully keep her mind of Tristan.

Bells rang from the direction of Luke's front door, indicating a customer entering. Rory absentmindedly looked up, watching Dean and Clara walk toward the counter. She immediately ducked down in her chair, propping one of Luke's menus before her. She couldn't believe her bad luck. Dean hardly ever came into Luke's Diner and the few times he did was because he knew she was there. She thought Luke's was safe, but now Dean stood at the counter. She needed to get out of there.

Dean and Clara's backs were turned and Rory immediately got up, heading to the door. She didn't make it. She heard Clara's voice two steps from the door. "Rory!"

Caught, she turned around, smiling tightly for the cute blond. "Hello, Clara."

"Dean just bought me a piece of cherry pie. Sit with us."

Rory looked up at Dean, who was trying his best to avoid her gaze. "I don't think it's a good idea, Clara."

The girl immediately pouted. "Aww, why?"

"Clara," Dean intervened. "I think Rory is busy. Maybe another time."

Clara turned her young blue eyes to Rory. "Is that why you have to go, Rory? Are you busy?"

Rory hated lying, especially to a young girl. "A little."

"Oh," the girl said with devastating disappointment. "Okay."

Rory couldn't take it. If she walked away, Clara's eyes would haunt her for the rest of the day. "I have a couple minutes, though," Rory conceded.

Clara smiled. "Goody. Sit next to me."

The girl grabbed her plate off the counter and sat at the table Rory had just vacated. Rory sat next to Clara as requested, while Dean sat to the other side of Clara, across from Rory. Rory shot a quick glance at Dean, wondering how uncomfortable he was feeling sitting with his ex-girlfriend. She knew how uncomfortable she felt. Thank goodness Tristan was still grounded and wasn't witnessing this.

Rory's eyes met Dean's, his uneasiness coming in loud and clear. It was only a second before he averted his eyes again. If only she could talk to him. She knew she shouldn't feel any obligation to Dean now that she was seeing Tristan, but she still wanted things to be good between them. She felt she had lost a friend and she just wanted him to realize she was sorry for what happened.

Clara took a fork to her pie. "Dean and I are going sledding after this. Do you want to come?"

Rory shook her head. "I have homework."

"Homework during winter break? Bummer."

Clara continued eating her pie, as Rory turned her eyes back to Dean. "How has your break been?"

"Good," Dean replied curtly.

"I really wanted to go to the Inn's dinner," Clara piped in. "But Dean said no."

"I'm sure he had his reasons."

"He didn't want to see you."

"Clara," Dean said disapprovingly. "I just don't think it was a good idea to go."

"I seem to be hearing that a lot lately," Clara mumbled.

Rory looked at Clara's sad face and felt tugged. "If you'd like, you can come over and I'll show you the pictures. There's a great one of Bootsy playing spoons on his head."

Clara smiled. "Okay. Let's go now."

"Clara," Dean interjected. "We're going sledding."

"But we can go before sledding. Please? Come on, Dean."

Dean glanced at Rory fleetingly and Rory felt it was best to shoot down the idea. "I'm sorry, but I really have to concentrate on my homework. Maybe this weekend or next week."

Clara opened her mouth as if to object, but one look at Dean made her retract. "Okay."

Clara finished her pie and Rory followed the Forrester siblings out of Luke's Diner. "I'm glad you sat with us for a while," Clara said with a sweet smile.

Rory smiled back. "Me, too. Don't forget to come over to see those photos." Rory lifted her eyes to Dean. "Bye, Dean."

He gave a half smile, the most genuine attempt she had seen since the break up. "Bye, Rory."

They went their separate ways, the Forresters heading down the street while she crossed it. She just entered the square when she saw him. Tristan stood a few feet away from her at the edge of the square, his jaw clenched tight. She looked back at the direction of Luke's and could still see Dean and Clara's receding backs. She realized that, depending on how long Tristan had been standing there, he could have had a good view of her saying good bye to the Forresters. She turned back to him and felt her realization might be correct.

She thought she could buy time to think about what to say by avoiding the topic all together. "Did the wardens let you out on good behavior?" She asked with a semblance of a smile.

Tristan kept his eyes directed over her shoulder, at what she could only imagine was Dean. "Not really."

"Then how are you able to be here?"

Tristan finally turned to her. "So, you were talking to Dean?"

"Not really. They came into the diner as I was leaving and Dean's sister asked me to sit with them for a while."

"And you just said yes."

"I didn't want to disappoint her. She's a sweet girl and I think of her as my little sister."

"Right. It has nothing to do with being close to Dean."

She feared he was thinking that. "No, it didn't have anything to do with Dean."

"You mean, after all this time that he has ignored you, you suddenly get the chance to talk to him, but you rather talk to his sister instead?"

"I have nothing to talk to him about."

He looked down the street where Dean had headed. "Did you tell him about us?"

She should lie and say yes, but she always felt uncomfortable lying. "No."

"Why not? It would have been the perfect opportunity. You had his attention for once."

"I didn't want to rub his face in it. I didn't want to tell him the guy I kissed in front of him was now my boyfriend. It would have been cruel. Besides, we agreed to keep it a secret."

"Yea, I don't think that's a good idea anymore."

"Because you saw me talking to Dean? Tristan, we agreed. I had my reasons and you had yours and so far those reasons are still valid."

"It's going to come out eventually. Why hide it?"

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Why are you wigging?"

"Hey, I don't wig. Dugrays don't wig."

"If you say so." Rory tugged on one of the buttons of his pea coat to get him to look at her. "Hey, I only spoke about ten words to him, so technically, we're still not talking."

"I don't want to keep us a secret anymore."

"Tristan, you said-"

"I know what I said, but I was wrong. Besides, you said you wanted to keep it a secret until your mother knew. Now she knows, so what's the big deal?"

Rory was thrown off by that statement. "You know my mother knows?"

"Your grandparents invited me to dinner next Friday night, which implies your mother having knowledge of us."

"My grandparents' invited you to dinner?"

"They wanted me to keep it a secret from you but I wanted to give you a heads up."

"Wow, that was quick. Dean and I were together for months before they invited him to dinner."

"So that has to mean something right? Rory, your mother and grandparents know about us. My parents now want to know why I'm invited to the Gilmores' on Friday. It doesn't make sense to continue hiding this. People are going to find out and I rather not hide something that's obvious."

"But what about Chilton?"

He shrugged with a smile. "I'm Tristan Dugray. I rule that school, so if I want to date a Mary, people are just going to have to accept it."

"Paris is going to be a nightmare. She'll make my life impossible and I don't really need that right now."

"She already suspects. Besides, I'll protect you. I have more pull in that school than Paris Gellar. One word and she'll be covered in pig's blood."

"Tristan!"

"Relax, Mary. I'm joking."

"Can you just wait until I talk to Paris? If I don't convince her to be okay with this, then we'll put out an announcement."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine."

"And stop calling me Mary."

He leaned his forehead against hers. "Stop acting like one." She scowled at him before he threaded his fingers through hers. "So, back to your original question. My father is working and my mother is in charity meetings all day, so I sneaked out. I have to be back in a couple of hours before my parents find out. What do you want to do?"

"Actually, I have to finish my article for the paper."

"Finish it later."

"Tristan-"

"I have an hour. You can spare an hour. We can see half a movie or a show or…"

"Or?"

"You have an imagination, don't you?"

She could hide the smile that formed on her lips. "Okay. I guess an hour won't hurt the article."

She let him pull her down the sidewalk in the direction of her house, wondering how distracted she would become once he left in an hour.


	18. Chapter 17: The Capulets' Dinner

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show._

_Hi everyone. I'm kinda depressed right now so I don't have much to say. Thanks for reading my story and I love reading your reviews. It makes me feel warm. Could use some of that so if you're feeling kind, please review and lift my spirits. Yes, I'm asking for pity reviews. I'm shameless. Thanks._

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

"Did you warn him?"

Rory turned her eyes to her mother, who had just parked their jeep in front of the Gilmore estate Friday night. The older Gilmore looked at her daughter with concerned but playful eyes. Her mother knew how nervous Rory was about that night. She had fretted about it since Tristan had told her. Tristan seemed so flattered about being invited to Gilmore Friday night dinner, Rory didn't want to concern him about the possible trap he was walking into. She was relieved at not seeing Tristan's Jag in the driveway. That meant he wasn't holed up in the mansion being interrogated by her grandparents.

"No," Rory replied. "I thought I'd let him suffer."

"I can't believe my parents lassoed Tristan into coming to dinner. You've only been seeing him for a week. What if you two break up tomorrow?"

"If Grandpa finds out about Tristan's criminal record, I'm sure we will."

"Just watch out for him. Remember how he flipped out at Dean."

"Yea, I just have the feeling it can be a lot worst."

Light briefly illuminated the inside of the Jeep before Tristan's car pulled up beside them. "Showtime," Lorelai said when the Jag stopped. They got out of the Jeep as Tristan was coming out, the pea coat unbuttoned and showing a glimpse of his gray suit. She was relieved that he had dressed up for the occasion. She knew he would, but hadn't been sure if he would wear a suit. This would surely score points with her grandparents.

"Hey," he greeted, pecking Rory on the cheek. "Hi, Ms. Gilmore."

"Hello, Tristan."

"Before we go in," Rory started, trying to keep a straight face. "I want to say, I'm sorry."

He frowned curiously. "For what?"

"You'll see," Lorelai replied with a wicked smile.

Lorelai led the way and Tristan leaned in close to Rory as they followed. "See what?"

Rory just smiled sympathetically and gave his hand a quick squeeze.

Emily opened the door with her hostess smile firmly in place. "Hello, girls. Tristan, oh darn. I wanted this to be a surprise for Rory."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Gilmore. I had no idea they were on my schedule.

"Hello, Mother," Lorelai said as she walked into the foyer, handing her coat to a maid waiting in Emily's wings. "Nice evening for a flogging."

Emily looked appalled. "Honestly, Lorelai, I never know what you're going to say. I remember raising you with a sense of decorum. Kindly use it when we have a guest."

"I am a guest, Mother."

"A terrible one, at that," Emily mumbled. "Come along."

Rory and Tristan handed their coats to the maid. Rory took a moment to admire him, comparing him to GQ covers as she took in his dark green shirt and black tie under his light gray suit. As soon as she felt Tristan noticing her stare, she turned away and walked into the sitting room behind Emily and Lorelai. Richard was sitting in an armchair, reading his Wall Street Journal. When the group entered the room, Richard folded the paper. "Hello, Lorelai. Rory. Tristan."

Tristan stepped up to Richard with confidence. "It's nice to see you again, Mr. Gilmore," he said as he shook Rory's grandfather's hand.

"It is indeed. Sit."

Tristan sat to Rory's left, Lorelai to her right. Rory was glad to see her grandfather was in a good mood and when Emily brought Tristan his drink, Rory noted Emily was in a good mood, also. She felt relieved. After the last time she had bought a boy to Gilmore dinner, she was wary of how Tristan would be treated. But her grandparents' sunny disposition was a good sign.

Rory sat back and watched as Tristan effortlessly charmed her grandparents, answering their questions with wit, laughing at Richard's jokes, unfazed by Emily's shameless bragging of Rory's qualities. When the time finally came to sit at the dinner table, Rory was pleased by how things were going.

But that feeling quickly disappeared when the soup came in. They had barely gotten in the first taste when Richard started. "So, Tristan, the men in your family have a long standing legacy at Harvard. Can I assume you intend to follow their footsteps?"

Rory froze. This was how the blowup happened last time. Richard had asked Dean about college and it escaladed until Rory was indignant. She had been caught off guard then. She didn't want to let it happen again.

Tristan answered before she could stop him. "I'm considering it, sir. My father and grandfather feel I should follow in their footsteps, which is understandable, but I also believe in blazing one's path, maybe starting a new legacy. I'll most certainly apply, but at this point I'm still weighing my options."

Richard pondered the answer for a moment. "And your grades? Are they up to par?"

Tristan nodded. "I get mostly A's with the occasional B."

Rory exchanged looks with her mother, who looked as concerned as she felt. So far Tristan's answers were satisfactory. It didn't look like Richard was getting bothered as he had when Dean came to dinner. But she still wasn't comfortable with the line of questioning.

Emily seemed to share her feelings also." Richard, maybe we can talk about something more pleasant."

"I'm trying to get to know the boy, Emily. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't object to that." Richard turned back to his prey. "Have you given any thought into what you want to get out of your education?"

"Well, I do want to continue in the family business, so I plan to get my MBA."

"And how do you expect to get into any respectable university and earn your MBA if you can't stay out of trouble for more than a month?"

She watched as Tristan's cool demeanor cracked. Richard obviously knew about Tristan's disciplinary problems and intended to use it to demean him. Rory felt a spark of anger ignite inside her. She thought, after what happened at the dinner she had invited Dean to, this would never happen again. But there was her grandfather, practically reenacting the whole scene again. "Grandpa, please stop," she pleaded, hoping the urgency in her voice would trigger something in his head.

It didn't. He just ignored her. "Did you know Rory is going to Harvard? Rory has never been suspended. She's in the top three percent of her class. She's on the school paper. She is someone Harvard would be proud to accept in its walls. Can you say the same about yourself?"

Rory was getting angrier with each word. "You can't do this again, Grandpa. Please stop."

"Rory, I'm only saying this for his own good. He comes from a good family, but he's not living up to his potential. I don't want you to be influenced by his rebellious behavior. If he's going to be dating you, he should be a positive reflection of your character. He could do that if he just reformed a bit."

"Reform?" Tristan repeated.

"That's right, young man. I know your grandfather and I'm familiar with your father. They are both fine men. I am confident that with time, you will follow in their footsteps. I realize you have time on your side and as a young man you feel the need to live out your youth to the fullest, but not at the expensive of my granddaughter's reputation. So I believe a little restraint on your part will be beneficial for your relationship with Rory."

Tristan chuckled while Rory's anger turned to perplexity. "You're right, sir," he said diplomatically. "I don't want Rory to be influenced by my actions. I'll make an effort to be on my best behavior."

"That's all I ask," Richard uttered as he dipped his spoon into his bowl.

Tristan smiled at Rory, giving her a discreet wink before tasting his soup. Dumbfounded, Rory looked across the table at her mother, who looked as miffed as her daughter. That was it. The conversation was over without incident. Dean had sat in the same spot a few months ago and was ripped to shreds for getting a couple of C's. Tristan sits there with his juvenile delinquency history and he only got a piece of advice to shape up. How could that be? Why wasn't her grandfather ripping to Tristan to pieces?

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

"So," Tristan started as he and Rory stood next to his luxury car after dinner. "Do you think I passed the test?"

Rory smiled, noticing the uncertainty behind the cocky smile. After the soup, everything with dinner went smoothly. Richard had shared with Tristan some of the things he had learned from being in insurance, Emily had asked some questions about his mother and her charity work, and Lorelai provided comic relief when needed. It had been a good night, better than she had anticipated. "Well, as long as you stay out of trouble, I think they'll accept you."

"Then I'll have to be very careful not to get caught from now on." He pushed a tendril of her hair behind her ear. "When Mr. Gilmore was grilling me, what did you mean when you said he couldn't do this again?"

"When Dean met my grandparents, my grandfather ripped him to shreds trying to prove he wasn't good enough for me. He apologized for it later, but I've always had the feeling that he still felt he was right in saying those things. So when he started on you, I thought it would be history repeating itself."

"And you were willing to defend me? That's sweet, Rory, but that's an impossible task."

"I just wanted him to leave you alone."

He smiled sweetly down at her. "Thanks, but I kick ass in my own battles."

They heard Lorelai's voice coming from the Gilmore front door, saying good bye to her parents. Tristan quickly pecked her on the lips. "I'll see you Monday. Say goodbye to your mom for me."

She watched him get into his expensive car and drive down the hill before turning toward her own vehicle. Her mother kept quiet as she drove them through Hartford, while Rory thought about the nagging unease she felt. She still couldn't stop thinking about dinner, about how her grandfather came dangerously close to dragging Tristan through the mud only to draw back. Not that she wasn't grateful. She really didn't want to witness her grandfather degrading Tristan over butternut squash soup. But it just seemed weird how he handled it. She was sure, when he said he knew about Tristan's constant trouble making, Richard would come down on him. Dean's average grades were no comparison to Tristan's illegal escapades. But all he said was Tristan should live up to his family's legacy and be on good behavior. Why the slap on the wrist?

Her mother interrupted her inter-dialogue. "Is something the matter, sweets?"

Rory shifted in her seat, unsure if she should bring this up with her mother. The need to vent won out. "Why, Mom? Why did Grandpa let Tristan off easy?"

Lorelai appeared taken aback. "Is that why you're mulling? Just count yourself lucky. I thought my father was about to take a chainsaw to that boy, but he had mercy. That's not something you can always say about my father."

"But why? Dean gets a C and Grandpa is all over him. Tristan is a juvenile delinquent and Grandpa gives him a 'Shape up, son.' Isn't there something missing there?"

"Maybe. So what?"

"Mom! Do you really think that's fair? And why? Is it because Tristan is rich? Is it because Grandpa knows Tristan's grandfather? Do you really think that's fair?"

"Honey, I don't know if your grandpa treated Tristan differently because of who he is, but if he did, you have to look at his perspective. Dean doesn't have the means Tristan does. To my father, the best shot to be successful if you're not rich is to get a good education at a great school. So the fact that Dean is getting average grades and hoping to go to state doesn't bode well in his mind. Then you have Tristan. Despite his growing rap sheet, he gets A's and wants to get his MBA. The fact that he's from a rich family only guarantees that his previous indiscretions will be ignored as long as he keeps good grades and the Dugrays make a hefty donation to the university of his choice."

"And that's the logic behind judging Tristan in a different light than Dean?"

Lorelai shrugged. "I did say I don't know why my father treated Tristan differently, so I could be wrong. Honey, why are you worked up about this?"

"I'm not worked up. I just don't think it's fair to judge people differently according to the net worth of their families."

"It's not fair. It's just the way it works in their world." Lorelai fell silent for a moment before starting up again. "Honey, you do realize Tristan is your boyfriend now."

"Really? I wondered why he kept taking my hand."

"Well, I'm just reminding you because you seem offended over the different way Dean was treated in comparison to Tristan and you really shouldn't."

"I'm not offended. I just don't like unjust things."

Rory watched her mother process the statement, wondering what she was thinking. "You're over Dean, right?"

Rory's spine stiffened. "Wow, left field."

"One day you're still pining over Dean and the next, you're into Tristan."

"Yes, I'm over Dean. I'm with Tristan now."

"But dating a guy doesn't mean you're over your ex."

"I thought you were okay with my dating Tristan. You seemed cool with it."

"I am. I want you to be happy. But I don't want you to be diluted. Just answer one thing. If Dean came up to you tomorrow and told you this was all a mistake, that he loves you and wants you back, would you be able to reject him honestly?"

Rory considered it. What would she do? She could just see him before her, like that day at Chilton, saying he wanted to fix things. Could she really tell him she wanted Tristan, and say it truthfully?

Her mind wanted to say yes, but she wondered if she would only say that out of spite because he left her, or out of obligation to Tristan. She didn't think she would be able to go back to Dean without hurting for Tristan.

God, why did her mother have to make her think about things?

"Dean isn't going to change his mind," she replied. "But if he were to suddenly want to get back together, it would be too late. I'm with Tristan now."

"Okay. Just remember that it wouldn't be fair to Tristan if you weren't with him wholeheartedly. He might be a juvenile delinquent, but even criminals can suffer from a broken heart."

Rory turned to the darkness outside her passenger side window, hoping her mother would leave her alone to contemplate the doubts Lorelai had just deposited in her mind.


	19. Chapter 18: Heaven and Hell

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show._

_Thanks all for the reviews last time. I'm all better now and thanks to those who sent me best wishes. Good news is I have a little more time to spend on the story. I hope to wrap it up soon and I think it will be done by the end of the summer. In the meantime, enjoy the latest installment and thanks again._

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

On Monday morning, Rory stood at the kitchen table, her yellow bag almost bursting at the seams. That did deter her from trying to shove another novel in the bag. She might be able to do it, too, if her loose hair didn't keep falling into her face. She shoved a chestnut strand behind her ear and tried again.

Her mother handed her a freshly toasted Pop Tart. "Gourmet breakfast for the lady."

She finally got the book into the back pack to the point where she could zip it. She gratefully took the pastry. "Thanks," she said right before taking a bite.

"So, first day back since you started dating the king of Chilton. How do you think it will go?"

"I expect to get into my first class by eight, at which time Paris will openly accuse me of treason. The hearing will be held at ten, where Paris will make a mockery of whoever is chosen to defend me. I'll be convicted unanimously and by lunch I will be publicly flogged in the courtyard."

"That optimistic."

"It is Chilton, after all."

"Maybe Paris has calmed down."

"No, she just fermented the anger. She is going to be insufferable, but I'll handle it. Only a year and a half left, right?"

Lorelai squeezed her forearm in encouragement. "Good luck, kiddo."

Rory wrapped herself in her wool coat, slipped on her heavy back pack and left the crap shack. She was halfway down the walk, her head down in thought, before she noticed the muffled sound of hard rock in the air. She raised her eyes, surprised to see the black Porsche parked before her. Tristan sat in the driver's seat, rocking his head as he sipped out of a coffee cup. She knew what he was doing, but she couldn't believe it.

She knocked on the passenger side window, visibly startling him. He lowered the window. "Hey."

"What are you doing?"

His eyes swept the car's interior as if confused about where he was. "I'm sitting in my car."

"I meant what are you doing here?"

"I'm picking up my girlfriend."

"Tristan, I ride the bus to school."

"I know."

"So there's no need for you to drive me to school."

"I know that, too."

"Then why are you here?"

"I get to drive to school in this comfy warm Porsche while my girlfriend rides a dirty crowded bus. What does that say about me?"

"That you love the environment enough not to subject it to extra exhaust."

He looked to the sky. "What has the environment done for me?" She rolled her eyes as he smiled. "Get in. You can lecture me on the way."

She slid into the slick car, settling into the warm bucket seat while setting her heavy bag on the floor in front of her. Tristan held out a grande Starbucks cup. She gladly sipped the brew, instantly comparing it to Luke's but grateful nonetheless. Tristan pulled out and Rory pulled out her book designated for her bus ride. "Tell me you're not reading in my car," Tristan said before she could open it.

"On the bus, I read. So if you're going to deprive me of my bus ride, you'll have to get used to the silence as I read."

He shook his head. "I thought I was doing a nice thing. I woke up today and thought, 'Hmm, maybe I should pick up my girlfriend so she doesn't have to ride a dingy bus on her first day back. Yes, that would be good. She will appreciate that.' Boy, was I wrong."

"I didn't know you were so melodramatic."

"I'm not melodramatic, just sensitive. But it's okay. Read your book and I'll drive you to school, bored, trying to stay awake in the quiet of this car."

She sighed, laying the book on her lap. "Fine, not reading."

They sat in silence, thinking of what to say. Rory returned to the original subject. "You really don't have to pick me up for school."

"Yea, that came in loud and clear. Thank you."

"It's not that I mind, but you have to drive thirty minutes to Stars Hollow, then another thirty minutes to school. You must have woke up a good hour before your usual wake up time."

"An hour and a half," he corrected. "I needed time to go to Starbucks."

"That wasn't necessary. You could have used that time for sleeping or studying or watching the morning news."

"Do I look like I watch the morning news?" When she didn't respond, he sighed. "Okay," he conceded grudgingly. "But I'm driving you home."

"Tristan," She started in protest.

"No. I'm not giving up anything taking you home."

"But you're grounded. Won't your parents ask where you went?"

"I told them I was taking you home today. They were cool with it."

"I don't want you to go out of your way for me."

He side-glanced at her, smiling in amusement. "I want to. Now stop trying to convince me not to do things for you."

She smiled back. She thought he was being cute by picking her up but she really didn't want him to go out of his way. She thought about the cupcakes and the Harvard bag and realized what a kind heart he had under all the arrogance. She liked discovering him, breaking the shell and looking inside. She felt she was getting closer to finding what was under the façade.

Opening the book, she started reading novel. She forgot she had said she wasn't going to read, but he didn't say anything to stop her. He just reached over and took her hand in his. Rory felt comfortable enough to fully emerge herself into the story, knowing she didn't have to look up at any point to make sure she didn't miss Chilton. She drifted away, thoughtlessly turning pages in the warmth and safety of Tristan's car.

The sudden absence of Tristan's hand in hers unglued her eyes from the book. Tristan had turned off the engine, just having parked on a street she had never seen before. "Where are we?"

"Side street behind Chilton. You said you wanted to talk to Paris before we go public, so if I park in the student lot, people will know we came together."

Who knew Tristan was so thoughtful? "Thanks. I had forgotten." She looked at her watch. "We still have some time. Do you want to sit here and talk?"

He shrugged. "Sure, we can talk, or…" He leaned in and gave her a soft lingering kiss that raised goose bumps.

His lips inches from hers, obviously waiting for her approval to move in for more, she couldn't help but play blasé. "Eh, I think I prefer talking."

"Sure you do." He closed the distance, his warm lips settling against hers, effectively shutting down talking as an option.

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

Rory walked to her locker minutes later, dazed and smiling slightly. She was convinced Tristan had a gift. His lips could probably save the world, or cause a war. He was like the male equivalent of Helen of Troy. She laughed at the thought of him launching a thousand ships.

"Well, someone is happy to be back in hell."

Rory had just gotten her locker when she heard the familiar venomous voice. Rory looked up and saw Paris and her friends walking up to her. Rory's heart jumped. No, not now. She wasn't ready to talk to Paris yet, especially with Louise and Madeline there. She had been hoping to take Paris aside during the Franklin meeting, after everyone was gone, and have a no holds bar talk about Rory and Tristan. It looked like Paris had other plans.

"Hello, Paris," Rory muttered as she started unloading her bag.

"Did you have a nice little break?"

Rory knew what she was doing. Paris liked to think she could confuse people by starting off with pleasantries and blindsiding them with her true purpose of conversation. It might work beautifully on people, but Rory didn't want to give Paris the satisfaction. "Yes, very nice. How about yours?"

"Relatively pleasant. I did have to have a knife removed from my back, but you know what they say. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

Rory's eyes shifted to Louise and Madeline, who both looked uncomfortable watching the exchange. "Can't we talk about this privately?"

Louise's eyes perked up at the appearance of an out. "We'll leave you two alone." Louise grasped Madeline's elbow and pulled her along down the hall.

Paris crossed her arms in front of her chest. "What, too ashamed to have an audience?"

"Paris, I know you're angry, but you have to believe that I never meant for this to happen. I was just trying to be Tristan's friend. I needed him to help me with Dean. Yes, I should have told you I invited him to dinner, but I thought you would get the wrong idea."

"And how did that work for you, Gilmore?"

"The point is, I'm sorry. That's why I wanted you to be the first to know-" Rory took a steadying breath. "Tristan and I are dating."

"I already knew that, remember?"

"No, we didn't start dating until after you left my house that day."

"Would you stop it with the lies? You already made your choice, Rory. Too late to try damage control."

"Paris, you're not-"

"I'm not what? I'm not letting you explain? I already told you, Rory. I'm done falling for the lies. I just feel really sorry for you. Tristan doesn't last more than a month with a girl. Come February, he'll get bored and call it quits, and everything will go back to normal. Except us. We'll never be back to normal. I hope it's worth it, having Tristan for a couple of weeks in exchange for making an enemy for the next year and a half."

The girl walked away, her head held high as she made her way down the hallway. She disappeared around the corner, and all Rory could think of was how she could possibly reverse this. How was she going to get Paris to be okay with this?

Rory finished at her locker and headed to her first class, resolved to think about how she was going to deal with Paris later.


	20. Chapter 19:Over Before it Started

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show._

_Sorry everyone. I didn't mean to take so long reposting but this chapter was very hard to write. Please don't be mad. I'll try to post the next chapter in a timely fashion. But wow, you all get fired up when Paris gets angered. I'm not trying to make Paris the villain, but I'm just basing her current attitude on how she acted when she thought Rory betrayed her in season 3. I'm sure she would let it go eventually. Anyhow, thanks for reading._

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

Rory sat on pins and needles by Tuesday afternoon. She hadn't seen much of Paris in the last twenty four hours, but it was obvious Paris had shared the knowledge of her relationship with Tristan with someone. The rumors spread like wildfire, and they ranged from the most mundane with Rory and Tristan just dating, to the most outrageous being they had secretly been seeing each other for a while and the play ousted them. It was definitely the buzz of the school without much help from Rory or Tristan.

The rumors about Paris's reaction were even more outrageous, the worst being she was plotting their death. Rory knew that was exaggerated, but it didn't ease her fears about Paris's contained anger toward her. When Rory walked into the Franklin meeting, she couldn't shake the paranoia of being called out as a traitor. But the meeting went on as normal. Paris barely touched the double issue before heading into the next issue's development. Rory was surprised her next assignment didn't involve covering the latest book donations to Chilton's library or how the lunch menus were determined each week. In fact, her assignment turned out to be decent. Rory thought Paris would seek retribution through the paper, but Paris barely looked at her during the meeting, much less scowled at her or belittled her. Maybe Rory had overreacted. Sure, Paris hated her, but maybe Paris thought that would be enough punishment.

"So adjourns our meeting," Paris said as she stood up from the meeting table. "Thank you all for the time you spent on your extra assignments this week. I knew we could pull it off and I'm sure it will be talked about amongst students and faculty alike. I do regret the issue ran too long. I suppose I got ambitious with the assignments. It was difficult for me to realize I would have to trim the issue but luckily, I only needed to cut out one story. Rory, I'm sorry but I had to cut your New Year's Hope article. It took up more space than the others, and once it was eliminated, the issue ran a perfect length."

Rory would have laughed if she hadn't just been struck dumb. Did she really think Paris had let go of the notion of revenge? Was Rory that naïve? But this was still a low blow. Her New Year's Hope article had been seven hundred and fifty words as specified by Paris herself. It was suppose to be the front page story. Rory had put a lot of effort into it and out of the three assignments, it was the one she was the most proud of. Paris had to know that. So she obviously knew what to do to get back at Rory.

"That's all," Paris dismissed them and sat down behind the editor desk, fiddling with her computer. The other students dispersed, some to the workstations to get started on their next assignment, others leaving the room altogether. Rory knew she should just leave. Nothing she said to Paris would make the editor back down or put the article back in the paper. But she couldn't let Paris get away with this without challenging her.

Rory walked up to the desk Paris sat behind. "So this is how you're going to deal with my seeing Tristan? You're just going to undermine my work on the Franklin?"

Paris didn't even flinch. "I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about."

"I don't believe how petty you're being about this. You're acting like you had something going with him. I would have understood if you froze me out, made snide comments, even spread a rumor or two. But to cut out an article of mine that I worked hard on because you wanted it to be on the front page, just because I'm dating Tristan? That is just low, even for you. I can't believe I ever tried to be your friend." Rory took a second to calm herself down. She was going on and on and in the back of her mind, she knew it was useless. She knew it before she stepped up to the desk but just listening to herself and watching Paris not respond drove the whole thing home. Apparently this was how things would be. "Okay. If this is how you want to handle this, so be it. By the way, you're building a nice legacy as editor, Paris. I'm sure it will be very memorable."

Rory started walking away, her back straight as a board while she quaked inside with anger inside. Behind her, Paris shot back, "I'm only doing what's best for the Franklin. Besides, with friends like you, who needs enemies?"

Rory was seeing red, almost walking past Tristan, who played a Gameboy while leaning against the wall next to the exit. He grabbed her elbow while pocketing the game. "Hey," he said soothingly as he pulled her in front of him, his eyes full of concern. "What happened?"

"She cut my article."

"I thought you had three."

"I did, but she cut the mayor one, the one she special ordered for this issue, the one I spent the most time on. She said she did it because there wasn't enough space, but I know it's a lie."

"Can't you talk to the teacher advisor?"

Rory shook her head. "This was Paris's pet project. As long as everyone has a space in the paper, it doesn't look suspicious, just an editorial decision."

"I can talk to Paris. I can make her back off."

"That would just make her hate me more. No, I'll live with it."

"Let me do this for you, Rory. I promised to protect you, remember? I know Paris and she doesn't let go of a grudge easily."

She thought he was sweet trying to be her savior, but she still hoped things with Paris would work out someday, even if it was a year and a half from then. She didn't need more cause for Paris to hate her, and even if Tristan treaded carefully, Rory worried Paris would be further offended by his involvement.

Tristan's eyes were as serious as she had ever seen them. Despite all the times he had infuriated her with his playful comments, she wasn't sure she favored his serious side. She didn't want him to concern himself too much about her and Paris. "She doesn't let got of a grudge easily, but she'll eventually let go. That's some kind of hope, right?" She said blithely with a smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

It did the trick. He smirked and then rolled his eyes. "Okay. Not talking to Paris." He took her back pack off her shoulder, putting it on his own before taking her hand. "Come on. Let me take you home. At least I'm good for that."

He pulled her out of the exit. He didn't see her mischievous grin. "You're good for a lot more than that," she uttered suggestively.

He looked back at her, his one eyebrow cocked in surprise and his lips curled in amusement. "Really? Well, it looks like I'm finally rubbing off on you, Mary."

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

Holding up her head with her hand, Rory read her lunch hour book while taking sips of her apple juice. It had been a while since she had been able to really read during lunch. She had missed the chance to relax during lunch. It was pretty peaceful, and she appreciated the opportunity to get away for a couple of minutes.

She felt Tristan shift next to her. She stole a glance at him, watching as he furrowed his brow in concentration while he did his trig homework. She had been surprised when she had found him sitting at their usual table doing homework, but she didn't want to tease him about his out of character behavior. So she just sat next to him and took out her book, taking advantage of the silence. It was funny not seeing him goof off during lunch. She smiled to herself. Maybe she was rubbing off on him, too.

He caught her staring at him, returning her smile. "What?"

She returned her eyes to the book. "Nothing."

He leaned into her, his lips inches from her ear. "Were you just fantasizing about me?"

She grimaced in mock disgust. "God, no."

"You sure you weren't thinking of me, you and a certain twin bed?"

"Not at all," she replied, emphasizing every word.

"Okay, deny it all you want, but I just wanted you to know that I understand. It must be so hard to concentrate with such a hot boyfriend."

"Your ego knows no bounds."

"You know, when my punishment is lifted, we can recreate the scene in my room. Granted, I have a king size bed, but I'm sure we can work with it."

"I think I'll pass."

"Hello Rory. Tristan," a familiar female voice greeted somberly.

Rory turned to see Paris standing across the table, her face sour, her hands balled into fists. She didn't look happy and immediately Rory's anxiety level went up. Paris wasn't pleased and Rory thought she was about to become a target.

"Paris," Tristan returned the greeting. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to talk to Rory."

"Ah," Tristan started to get up and Rory panicked. She didn't want to talk to Paris by herself, especially if she was about to become a target. What if she caused a scene? Rory grabbed Tristan's hand to make him stay. Tristan lowered himself into the seat again, giving her a bewildered look. He must have read her pleading eyes because he squeezed her hand gently before letting go. "I guess I'll stay," he said softly, more to Rory than to Paris. He went back to his trig homework.

"Fine," Paris conceded. "I just wanted you to know that I'm going to include the article after all. I was looking at the layout and since someone volunteered their story to be cut in lieu of yours, we'll just have to put a couple of the other articles in a slightly smaller font to squeeze yours in."

Rory stared at Paris in shock. She was letting the story back in? Why would she do that? "Um, thanks. But who volunteered?"

"Louise."

Another shocker. Paris's best friend gave up one of her spots in the paper for Paris's enemy and Paris was allowing it? Rory couldn't believe it. It had to be some kind of sick joke. They had to be setting her up to watch her fall at a later date. Only Paris didn't look okay with this. She looked genuinely pissed. Rory couldn't help but ask the obvious. "Why would Louise do that?"

Rory watched as Paris's eyes flickered to Tristan and back. It was very quick. If Rory had blinked she would have missed it. But she didn't and suddenly everything made sense. Tristan had a hand in this somehow.

"I don't know," Paris replied. "She just volunteered. Far be it from me to refuse such generosity. But I'm sure Louise can be very accommodating when she is persuaded to be."

Tristan cleared his throat. Paris's spine stiffened. "Right. I just wanted to relay the good news." She headed back to her table without so much as a goodbye, which Rory barely noticed anyhow. She was too busy glaring at Tristan. It was very obvious he had a hand in this, especially after he cleared his throat at Paris's reasoning for Louise's volunteering.

She waited for him to look at her, but he kept looking at his trig book. She felt so disgusted at that moment. He had involved himself after she asked him not to, and now he wouldn't even look at her. Unable to endure sitting next to him, she stood, grabbing her tray and back pack and storming out of the lunchroom after dropping off her half eaten lunch on the discard cart.

She settled her bag on her shoulders, her anger slowly consuming her. How could he do this to her? Didn't he know he just made everything worse? How would she get back into Paris's good graces now that her boyfriend had bullied Paris into letting her article back into the paper?

"Rory," she heard him call behind her. She ignored him. If he knew what was good for him, he wouldn't come after her.

Apparently, he didn't know what was good for him. He came up next to her and seized her upper arm. "Hey."

She pulled her arm away. "Don't."

"Rory," he pleaded.

"How could you? I asked you not to get involved. You know I wanted you to stay out of it and you still talked to Paris."

"Whoa, wait. First off, you didn't ask me not to get involved. You asked me not to talk to Paris, which I didn't. Second, you're sorely mistaken if you think I'm just going to sit around and let Paris Gellar mess with my girl."

"It doesn't concern you. It's none of your business."

"Really? She's only getting at you because of me. I think that makes it my business."

"So what did you do? You didn't talk to her, so you emailed her? Asked one of your lackeys to talk to her for you?"

"I talked to Louise."

When he didn't continue, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. "And?"

"I made her realize it was in her best interest to get Paris to back off."

"You blackmailed her?

He shrugged. "I know some of her secrets, some bad ones. I just pointed out she owes more loyalty to me than Paris, since I've kept her secrets."

"I can't believe you. So not only do I have Paris against me, I have Louise hating me because I'm the cause of her secrets potentially leaking."

"Easy. I'd never tell Louise's secrets. She just doesn't know that."

"Stop justifying it. I want Paris to come around eventually, not forced around. She'll never get over this now."

"Rory, you have got to let Paris go. Why is it so important for Paris to accept this?"

"I don't want her hating me. You have no idea what it's like to be on the receiving end of her wrath."

"But you have me now. I'll protect you."

"How long will _that_ last?"

She didn't mean to say it. Somehow it came out of her mouth at the same time it entered her mind and she didn't get a chance to suppress it. Her heart sank as she witnessed Tristan's hurt eyes looking back at her. Then something else crept into his eyes she didn't recognize. "So I guess we reached the root of all this, didn't we?" He asked quietly.

"I didn't mean to say that."

"But you've been thinking it."

She tried not to. She didn't want to think she was just a notch on his belt. She didn't feel he was treating her like one. But she couldn't help the doubts that kept crawling into her mind. They always came in Paris's voice, telling her this was all fleeting. Tristan will get bored. He'll move on. He always does. She didn't dwell on them, just tried to think of how good things were. She mostly kept them at bay, but they visited her when she least expected it and made her dread what may come. If they broke up, Paris would have been right, and Rory would never be able to live it down, not that Paris would let her.

Tristan shook his head as if incredulous. "I don't know why I…" He blew out a breath. "Forget it. Maybe you're right. Maybe it's inevitable."

Rory saw the resentment in his eyes. She shouldn't have admitted to thinking about their break up. "Tristan, I-"

He shook his head at her, holding up his hands as he backed away from her. "Save it for your next boyfriend. Maybe you'll be with him longer than you were with me. Or, hey, you can go to Dean. Maybe he'll take you back now."

Pain shot through her heart at the implications, but he didn't look the least bit sorry. If anything, he looked as hurt and tormented as she felt. His eyes shifted away from her as he disappeared up the nearest stairwell, leaving Rory with the anxiety of ruining the relationship before it really started.


	21. Chapter 20: Boys Don't Understand

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show._

_Hi, all. I know last chapter was rough. It was hard to break up Rory and Tristan, but it's for a higher purpose. Next chapter is written, so unless I have more PC problems, I'll post it sooner then it took me to post this one. I want to give every one a chance to read this one before springing the next one on. But I'll make a deal with you. I'm averaging 16 reviews per chapter, so if this chapter gets 16 reviews before next Thursday, I promise to post the next chapter ASAP. Enjoy and thanks for reading._

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

The gray cordless telephone receiver rested on the coffee table, beckoning Rory to pick it up, press its glowing numbers, and make the call she has wanted to make for days now. It was Saturday afternoon, and she hadn't spoken to Tristan since he walked away from her on Wednesday. At first, she tried to convince herself that once things cooled down, they would be able to smooth things over. But when she realized she hadn't seen him at all in the last few days, she decided waiting wasn't an option. She feared he would move on, thinking they were over, and she didn't think she'd be able to handle it.

She had to call him, but she had been staring at that receiver most of the day, sometimes picking it up, only to set it back down. She worried he didn't want to talk to her, or wouldn't believe her when she apologized and told him she wanted to be with him. She wanted everything to work out, but she was afraid of failing.

She rolled her eyes at herself. She had to stop hesitating. She had to do something. She had to suck it up and try to get Tristan back.

After pepping herself up, she grabbed the receiver. Her blood pounded in her ears as she hesitated, staring at the phone as if looking for a sign. Suddenly it rang in her hand, making her yelp in surprise and drop the phone onto her lap. It rang again, the distinct sound of someone trying to get in touch with one of the Gilmores. But Rory didn't answer it. She was still too surprised it rang in the first place. The machine picked up and after the latest silly message Lorelai recorded played out, a familiar male voice spoke.

"Uh, Rory, it's Dean. Clara wanted me to call you because she thought maybe we could come over and you can show her, or rather us, the photos of that dinner you had before Christmas. You're obviously not home but if you get back soon and have some time, maybe you can entertain my little sister long enough to take the pressure off me for a few moments. See you later…maybe."

Rory sat there in the silence, thinking about the message. Dean called her. Even though she hadn't picked up, he had every intention of talking to her. It was the first time Dean initiated communication since they broke up and it took her a little aback. Did she hear a little humor when he suggested she entertain Clara? He was actually willing to spend time with her, and it wasn't because she bumped into him. Did this mean he was warming up to her, maybe even willing to forgive her?

Rory glanced at the receiver. She should really call Tristan now. The quicker this was resolved, the sooner they could move on. And she really wanted this resolved. She missed him tremendously the last three days. She wanted to go back to how things were.

She started to punch in the familiar numbers and held up the receiver to her ear. One ring, two…on the third ring a male voice answered. "Hello?"

"Hi, Dean."

"Rory, hi. You got my message."

"Yea. I was home. I just couldn't pick up the phone in time."

"So, can we come over?"

"Sure."

"Great. We'll be over in a few."

She placed the receiver on the coffee table and stood up. She felt guilty about calling Dean instead of Tristan, but it was the safer choice. She needed more time to plan what she would say to Tristan. In the meantime…

She went to her room to get the mini-album that had the pictures of the Bracebridge dinner. She had put it away in her closet along with the other photo albums she had, on the upper shelf. When she turned around from the closet, her eyes fell upon the nightstand and the leather bracelet Dean gave her. It still laid there from when Tristan put it there that night last week. She hadn't thought much about it since then, even though she said she would give it back to Dean. She stared at it for a bit before pocketing the bracelet. Maybe she could get Dean alone and give it back to him. She'd have to tell him everything, of course, but maybe it was time he knew anyway. Then she'd really have something to say to Tristan.

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

Clara was in awe. She sat in between Rory and Dean on the couch with the album in her hands, slowly turning the pages. The photos started with a shot of some of the guests checking in at the lobby. She hadn't been to the Inn before and she commented on how pretty it was. A few shots later, there was a photo of the horse drawn sleighs. That caused a gasp and excited chatter. Apparently Clara loved horses but had never seen one in person, much less rode one. She started lamenting the missed opportunity. Rory comforted Clara by telling her it had been very cold outside and it hadn't been that fun. It was a lie, of course. It was the night she and Tristan had agreed to be friends, which ultimately led to them getting together. But she wanted Clara to think she didn't miss much. So she tried downplaying the next photos of the dinner. She tried to keep a straight face when showing the pictures of Rune and Jackson in their costumes. She didn't crack a smile when the photo of Bootsy drumming spoons on his head came up and another of Jackson slapping his bare belly. But she forgot about one photo at the end. After dinner, Rory and Tristan had sat on the couch in the lobby for a while before going to their rooms. Her mother had taken a picture of them talking and when it was developed, Rory hadn't been able to take her eyes of it. They were smiling at each other, their knees pointing toward the other and almost touching. It was just a great shot of Rory and Tristan and her favorite photo of the night.

Her heart raced when Dean leaned in closer to the album. His jaw tightened and he stood up. "Come on, Clara," he ordered gruffly. "I think it's time to go."

"Aww, Dean," Clara whined. "We just got here."

Dean opened his mouth as if to say something, and by the look on his face, he was about to say something harsh. Rory didn't want Clara's feelings to be hurt. Besides, she didn't want to miss the opportunity to give him back the bracelet. She quickly stood up. "Um, Dean," Rory stopped him. "Can I see you in the kitchen for a second?"

She could tell Dean didn't want to concede, but he sighed and followed her into the kitchen. Before she could say anything, he started ranting. "I can't believe you're friends with that guy. He is a major jerk."

She knew where he was coming from, but she couldn't help herself from sticking up for Tristan. "You don't know him. He's not really like that."

"Why are you defending him? He teased you constantly when you first started at Chilton. He picked a fight with me at that dance. He dropped flour when he was at Doose's. Do you know how hard it was to clean that up?"

"Okay, so he has exhibited jerk-like behavior, but you don't know what he's been through."

"Come on, Rory. Don't give me the poor little rich boy story."

She paused, hoping it would calm the tension in between them a bit. "I don't expect you to understand. I know, after all that has happened, it will be hard to see Tristan in anything other than a negative light. But that's not why I asked to talk to you." She dug into her pocket and pulled out the bracelet. "We haven't talked much in the last few weeks and-"

She heard a knock at the front door. She mentally cursed the bad timing, but she thought maybe they'd be a bit patient and let her get out what she needed to say to Dean. "There are some bad feelings between us, and I wanted to get it all cleared away. I want you to know I never meant to hurt you or ruin our relationship. I didn't know I would react to Tristan that night. I had no idea, but it's no excuse."

The knock came again, louder and more insistent. She groaned. She had to finish this now that she started. If she stepped away now, she wasn't sure she'd be able to pick it up again. "Dean, I'll admit I had some hope that you would forgive me and we could get past this, but I know now that it's not a possibility."

Dean's eyes softened. "Rory, I know you didn't mean to do what you did. I needed time to think and I don't feel any bad feelings toward you any more. It's in the past. It didn't mean anything, right?"

She was surprised. It sounded like Dean was about to forgive her and she didn't expect that during her attempt to explain Tristan was her boyfriend. It instantly made everything more difficult. "Actually, that's what I wanted to talk about."

"I know." He softly grabbed her upper arms and gently pulled her closer to him. "I missed you, Rory."

He started to lower her head toward her and she was paralyzed. Dean was going to kiss her. After all this time of ignoring her, he suddenly wanted to get back together with her.

This was going too fast. This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all. She was supposed to tell him about Tristan and he was supposed to flip his lid. He wasn't supposed to try to kiss her. She had to stop him.

From the corner of her eye, she saw movement from the entrance of the kitchen. When she turned her eyes to the object, she saw injured steel blue eyes staring back at her. Rory's heart plummeted to the floor with the instant recognition of what he was looking at. Tristan quickly recovered and masked his eyes. "I didn't know this was a bad time," he said tersely. "I'm sorry I interrupted."

He walked away while she tried to compose herself. She shrugged out of Dean's hold and followed Tristan, briefly noticing Clara standing next to the front door, before stepping out into the January air. "Tristan, wait!" She called to his back.

She caught up to him just as he reached the driver's side of the car. "Tristan."

"You didn't waste any time, did you?" He asked as he faced her, his look stone cold. "As soon as we were over, you went back to him."

"It's not like that. We were just talking."

"No, it's fine. I knew I was fooling myself. It was stupid of me to think you were over him."

"No, Tristan. You don't understand. I'm not back together with him."

"But you want to be and I can't be your stand-in boyfriend."

"You're not my stand-in boyfriend. I-"

Tristan cut her off. "I won't be your second choice."

Before she could say anything else, Tristan got into his car. She couldn't believe this was happening again and she pounded her fist against the window of his car weakly in a last attempt to get him to stop. But he didn't look up. Instead, he started off, driving away at a rapidly increasing speed. After the car became a speck in the distance, she looked back at the house where Dean and Clara were quietly leaving her house. Dean guided Clara across the yard instead of up the walk in a ploy to avoid her. But Dean gave her a fleeting glance and she could tell Tristan wasn't the only one hurt or confused that day.


	22. Chapter 21: Making A Choice

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show._

_Wow. I know I gave you all an incentive to post reviews, but I didn't think I'd have to post the chapter this quickly. I'm keeping up my side of the bargain. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'll try to post the next one soon._

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

When Lorelai got home that afternoon, she found her daughter sitting on the couch, staring at the picture of her and Tristan while clutching on to the leather bracelet. "Hey, Sweets," she greeted. "What are you doing just sitting there?"

Rory wasn't quite sure. After Tristan and Dean left, she had come back into the house to escape the cold. She realized she was still clutching the bracelet she had been prepared to hand back to Dean. Her mind tottering, she had sat down on the couch and found the open album still on the picture of her and Tristan. She didn't understand what had happened. She had the perfect opportunity to finally close the book on her relationship with Dean. She was ready, she had let go. But then Dean had to ruin it by trying to kiss her, and Clara obviously opened the door for Tristan to witness the whole scene.

It had crossed her mind that her mother had psychic powers. She telegraphed Dean coming back to her just last week, and Rory didn't believe her. Rory had accepted Dean could never get over her kissing Tristan. Why did he have to pick today to decide he wanted her back? Why hadn't he left well enough alone?

And Tristan. God, what he was thinking. He obviously came over to talk to her and instead found her with her ex. He thought she was back together with Dean. He thought he was her second choice. Was he right? Did she only date him because she couldn't have Dean? She didn't want to believe that, but if it was true, then what was she to do? Should she break things off with Tristan and start again with Dean?

"Honey, you're scaring me," Lorelai said.

Rory finally spoke. "I don't know which one I want, Mom."

"Well, are we talking about Coke or Pepsi, or can I get some more details?"

"They were both here today. Dean and Tristan, at the same time."

"Oh, no. Did Tristan flip out on Dean?"

"Not really. He kind of walked in on Dean and me almost kissing and didn't want to hear anything I wanted to say."

Lorelai looked back at the front door before returning her eyes to her daughter. "Did I just walk onto the set of 90210?"

Rory threw her head back and groaned in frustration. Lorelai threw down her purse and sat down next to Rory. "Okay, what happened?"

"Dean and Clara came over. Clara wanted to see the Bracebridge Dinner photos, so we were looking at them and then this one came up." Rory held up the picture of her with Tristan. "Dean got upset and I took him to the kitchen so I could talk to him about Tristan. But before I could do that, there was a knock on the door and Dean said he missed me and tried to kiss me. Then Tristan showed up and thought I got back together with Dean and…" She sighed forlornly. "I think I lost him," she repeated.

"Oh, honey." Lorelai put her arm around her daughter. "You didn't actually kiss Dean, did you?"

"No, but it got pretty close."

"I thought you were over him."

"It just happened so fast. He was mad about my being friends with Tristan one moment and the next, he was being nice and understanding and…jeez, Mom. What am I going to do now? I didn't think Dean would want to fix things. I didn't even think he was going to forgive me. Now he's acting like he wants me back."

Lorelai paused for a moment. "Do you want him back?"

Rory closed her fist around the bracelet. "This was what I was waiting for the past few weeks. But I'm not sure I want it anymore."

Lorelai pushed one of Rory's tendrils behind her ear. "You have to be sure, kid. You have two guys depending on your decision. You should be fair to both of them."

Rory smiled at her wryly. "I know." She grunted in frustration. "If only Dean hadn't come over. I knew I shouldn't have let them come over. Everything would have been easier now."

"Nothing is easy. Dean still loves you and it was only a matter of time before he came back. Believe me, you would have come to this crossroad eventually."

Rory gazed at her mother, taking a little strength from her rationality. "I just want to make the right decision."

Lorelai squeezed Rory's upper arm in encouragement, providing a smile for her only child. "You will, hon. You will."

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

Rory stood in front of the Forrester home late Sunday night, gazing on to the lit window she knew was Dean's. He was still up, but she didn't know if he would want to see her after what happened the day before. It didn't matter. She needed to talk to him. She needed to set everything straight and let him know where she stood.

She took a calming breath before walking over to the tall tree in front of his window. She knew Dean's parents ran on the old fashion side and that meant it was too late to knock on the front door and ask to talk to Dean. Besides, she hadn't seen Dean's mother since the break-up, and she was afraid to face Mrs. Forrester and see a disgusted look on her face. Her only option, other than going home and waiting for daylight, was to scale this tree. She started climbing, amazed she could still do this despite her lack of athletic ability. But within a minute and with little effort she was outside of Dean's window. Rory peered into Dean's room, seeing him at his desk, focusing on a book while resting his head on this hand. She lightly tapped on the window. Dean didn't move except for the shifting of his eyes toward the window. Once he realized it was her, he stood up and walked over to the window, opening it up and sitting on its sill. "Hey," he greeted.

"Hi," she returned. "I didn't get to finish talking to you yesterday."

"Yea. We sort of got interrupted."

"I had no idea Tristan was going to show up."

"He looked kind of mad and you were quick to go after him."

She heard the implication behind the statement and was unable to continue looking him in the eye. It was impossible for her not for feel guilty about the whole situation. She should have told Dean sooner, save him a bit of confusion.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest and squinted at her, which she knew indicated he was troubled. "So, you're with Tristan now."

She nodded. "As of two weeks ago. That's what I was trying to tell you yesterday."

"God, Rory. Of all the guys you could have picked, you had to go out with him. Don't you remember how he treated you when you first started at that school?"

"I know it's hard to understand, Dean. I barely understand it myself. I just wanted to explain that I didn't plan this. I had no interest in Tristan before the play. It just happened."

Dean scoffed as he shifted his eyes to his carpeted floor. "Nothing just happens."

There was an awkward silence, and Rory knew there wasn't much more she could tell him. She reached into her coat pocket and took out the leather bracelet. She looked at it one last time, remembering that beautiful night when he gave it to her, before extending it toward him. The bracelet linked to so many great memories she shared with Dean, but now was the time to let go. "I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't want things to end this way. You deserved better, and I wish I could have been better for you. I really did love you and I'm going to miss you, continue missing you. I just hope some day we can get past this and you'll forgive me."

He stared at her extended hand for a moment before taking the bracelet. He continued to look at it as he cleared his throat. "I hope so, too."

He stood up, avoiding her gaze as he closed the window between them. She observed him return to his desk, dropping the bracelet on the surface before resuming his former position as if she had never come, as if she had imagined it all. She stood up and careful climbed on the extended branch that brought her there, guiding herself cautiously down the tree. On the ground, she gave the window one last glance before she headed home. Each step away from the Forrester home felt like it put a mile of distance between Rory and Dean, and even though she was sad about it, she knew it was for the best. She would always have a special place in her heart for Dean. He had been the perfect boyfriend and she couldn't have asked for anything more. But in her heart, she knew it was time to move on.

She permitted herself a small smile. A couple of months ago, she wouldn't have thought that she would ever pick Tristan over Dean. It was ludicrous, but somehow fate had tossed her life upside down. A little play, a little kiss, and her life was unrecognizable from some months ago. What she said would never happen was a reality, and she didn't have any qualms about being wrong. In fact, she was ready to eat crow with some hot sauce.

A few snowflakes started to fall down on the quiet streets of Stars Hollow as she thought of Tristan, awakenings, Shakespeare, and just how funny the world could be.


	23. Epilougue: Romeo Gets His Juliet

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own Gilmore Girls or anything affiliated with the show._

_A/N at the end of the chapter. Enjoy_

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

Tristan walked down the silent halls of Chilton as if he was walking through his own home. It was the last period of the day, but Tristan didn't have any intention of going to history class. Instead, he headed toward his locker. He could get any information about the missed class from one of the guys in the class later that day. But he didn't want to be around when the final bell rang. He didn't want to take the chance of running into her.

He couldn't stop thinking about her. That had been a problem before, but it had increased disturbingly in the last few months. It was as if that kiss they shared on stage had set the snow ball rolling, and it got bigger with each moment he spent with her, until it became hard to ignore and impossible to escape. He didn't know how he was going to get back to how things used to be, where he'd just push a fleeting thought of her right out of his mind. His fleeting thoughts were different now, and how was he going to ignore the thought of her arms around his waist, kissing her in the quiet of his foyer, her brown hair threaded through his fingers?

He sighed. There he went again. He should have known better than to get involved with her. When she finally accepted her feelings for him, he ignored the nagging doubt she wasn't over Dean yet. He was too anxious to be with her to take caution at all. Then he went and tried to play hero by talking to Louise about getting Paris off Rory's back. He didn't think Rory was going to find out about it. He thought Louise would be discrete, but apparently he didn't have enough clout to make her keep secrets from Paris. So Rory found out, and that led to her confessing they wouldn't last long, and him implying their break up. He was such an idiot. He should have talked to her about it instead of walking away. He should have told her the only reason he got involved in her problem with Paris was because he didn't want Paris to drive Rory away from him.

He planned on talking to her after he realized he was going to lose her. He went to her house on Saturday with every intention of working it out. But then he saw her with Dean, almost kissing, and he knew he lost. He should have tried to fix things sooner, but he couldn't say he was surprised things ended with her going back to Dean.

He balled his hands into fist out of frustration. He couldn't keep thinking about all the mistakes he made with her. He couldn't keep beating himself up about it. He needed to put it behind him and move on.

He needed a few things from his locker before he could head out. Otherwise, he would have left by now. The longer he stayed in the halls, the more likely he would get caught. An hour in detention was the last thing he wanted right then.

After a quick flick of the dial, he opened the locker door. He quickly took the books he needed, wondering what she was doing and quickly chastising himself. It was going to take some time, but he was determined to get Rory Gilmore out of his mind.

He suddenly smelled vanilla and coffee. That was a first. Of all the times he had thought of her, he had never actually smelled her before. Maybe his obsession ran a little deeper than he thought.

"Hi," he thought he heard her say.

A cold shiver went down his spine. Okay, he had to be going crazy. He was imagining her speaking, but it sounded too real. He straightened slightly. If he looked around and didn't see her, this would be downright creepy.

He looked behind the locker door and was surprised he wasn't going crazy. She actually stood there, with her chestnut hair held back by a navy headband, her yellow book bag strapped onto her back, her blue eyes clouded in uncertainty.

"Hey," he returned, then cleared his throat. That came out a little warmer than he would have liked. "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"It's my independent study period. I have a pass for the library."

"You must be lost. The library is on the other side of the building."

"I was looking for you."

He kept his face neutral even as a spark of pleasure ignited. He knew better now. He wouldn't let himself get excited prematurely. "So, you found me. Now what?"

"Can we talk?"

Tristan looked around, knowing they were staying out too long. "We're going to get caught."

"Then we'll be able to talk in detention."

He smirked at her naiveté. "You haven't been in detention with Culpepper, have you?"

"I haven't been in detention, ever."

That erased the smirk. She was risking her good standing by being there. Even though he had tried to break her out of her shell, he actually respected her ability to toe the line. She shouldn't have broken the rules just to talk to him. "You shouldn't be here, Rory. You should be at the library."

"I need to talk to you, and I can't get to you any other way."

"Maybe that's for the best."

He closed the locker door and walked around her. He knew he was discouraging her from trying to talk to him again, but that might help his peace of mind. The less he saw her, he was sure the more he'd be able to get back to normal.

He was several steps away from her when she spoke. "You're not my second choice."

He turned around and looked at her. She looked a little more vulnerable than usual, her blue eyes a bit desperate. He only saw her like that once before, and it was that day Dean came to Chilton. Again, he suppressed the pleasure and now the hope. She didn't say anything that he should be excited for. So he wasn't her second choice. She hadn't said he was her first.

She continued. "I know how it looked when you saw me with Dean, but I was trying to tell him about you. He just got confused, but Dean and I…it's over, Tristan."

He was having a hard time suppressing the hope now. "What are you saying?"

She huffed in frustration. "I'm not running back to Dean. I don't want you to be my stand-in boyfriend. I just want you to be my boyfriend."

A smile escaped him. He couldn't help it. He had Rory Gilmore telling him she would rather be with him than Dean.

So Rory Gilmore wanted him. But he wasn't going to let her off the hook that easily. "So, you want me to be your boyfriend. What's in it for me?"

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "If you think I'm going to beg, you're nuts."

"No, I don't want you to beg. I just want some privileges."

She paused, her arms tensing. "Like what?"

He took a step toward her and cocked his head. "I want to pick you up for school and drop you off at home every school day."

She visibly relaxed. "It's a waste of time and gas."

"But it's my time and gas."

She rolled her eyes. "Okay."

"And I want to a hand in handling Paris."

She tensed again. "No."

"Rory, I can't let her get to you."

"It's between Paris and I."

"But it's because of me, so that makes me part of it. I know her, Rory. I can get her to ease up on you without the shady tactics."

That made her relax again. "No shady tactics?"

He shook his head. "My word."

She hesitated, then sighed. "Fine, but you can't get too involved."

He smiled, knowing he would be. He didn't want Paris ruining this. He didn't want anyone ruining this.

He couldn't resist anymore. He closed the distance between them, cupped her neck with his hand and kissed her. Her soft lips gave way under his and she tasted of sweet coffee. She was so intoxicating, he knew he couldn't let himself go on too long. It was easy to lose himself to her and they were still out in the middle of a Chilton hallway. Headmaster Charleston frowned down upon PDA and it wouldn't surprised Tristan if, when caught, Rory and him would get a lecture about restraint and abstinence.

He lifted his head. Her blue depths shimmered up at him, and he couldn't remember ever being this happy. He finally felt like he had her. She was his, not on loan but really his, and no someone else's.

"There's one more thing."

"What?" She breathed.

"You have to use my Harvard messenger instead of the Tweety bag."

She shook her head. "No way."

He pulled away from her slightly so he could take her hand. He wasn't going to let her get in trouble. What ever happened to him, he didn't want his Mary to be affected by his behavior, even if it was with a measly detention. He started guiding her toward the library. "Come on," he said. "You know my bag is better."

"Give it up, Tristan. You're not going to convince me to give up my backpack."

"Why not? If I got you to give in to dating me, I think I got a pretty good shot at this."

She answered him by shooting him a death glare. He chuckled and pulled her close, kissing her again before letting the topic go, knowing that having her was enough of a victory for him…for now.

**_xoxoxoxoxo_**

_So as you my have guessed since this chapter is in Tristan's POV, this is the end of the story. It's been a pleasure to finally put this idea into words, and I like to think this may have happened in the series if Tristan and Rory had been given a shot. Thank you so much for reading, for lifting my spirits with your reviews and just pushing this story on. I hope you enjoyed your time in my Trory world. _


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